
BORN furiously svelte, snow-flurries maim
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Themselves as they storm the cold skin, to be
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Merged, meshed into an itchy trickle:
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Their hearts burn with the earth’s nurturing zest
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That touches with stone-cool, tender gloves
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All life, that holds slime-things dear as flowers.
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Come watch her lungs melt in a man-set flame,
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Her dwindling fingers drown in their own sea;
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The snow-flurries, born fierily fickle...
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