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time is the slowest constant in my life thus far.
it feels like it's been years since i've been able to step outside without some kind of protection against the crippling temperature.
while i sit on my porch one morning i notice something.
it's a patch of clear grass.
i chuckle and whisper,
'you can't escape winter'.
i wonder if the words are meant for the grass
or for myself.

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