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If I die young,

I want to be buried

in orange and

purple-ish blue.

My favorite colors.

I want to

wear the old-fashioned

dresses Mother always

tries to convince me to put on,

beautiful and I secrelty want

to wear them, but

never tell Mother

until I've passed

and all my secrets

can fall out of

the old-fashioned sleeves,

maybe get tangled

up in the ruffles

and be buried with me

but only the ones

you shouldn't hear.

Take my pockets

and fill them with pennies

as you fill your eyes

with tears,

and take

beautiful old-fashioned

slippers

and let me walk in

what I never got to experience.

Take my hair and

put it behind me

and let me hope wind

blows.

Let the trees and leaves

hover and flow,

a rhythm unspoken

but perfectly understood,

let them flow

flow

flow.

Let me flow.

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