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She died, - this was the way she died;
And when her breath was done,
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.

Her little figure at the gate
The angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side.

~ Emily Dickinson
  • Listening to: Lisa Gerrard
  • Drinking: Añejo
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Submitted on
October 16, 2008
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