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The sirens call, but you

can’t hear them so you

gab their heads, shaped

like tulips.  the bulbs sing for

you and you tell them to sing

louder, to tell of all the injustice

that you’ve faced.  the

song, you are told is sweet

and brings accent of the

afterlife.  The crow howls

at midnight, the cow sings in

moonlight.

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