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Oh, the strength it takes
to swing a bat! To strike
a match–hear the cracks
upon impact–how warm
we were with the heat
to our backs! With the
ways the windows became
a thousand prisms of the
pavement–catching a
thousand flames and refracting
them upon our faces as flecks
of light in every color– oh, I
wanted to be stained! Instead
I ran away with the part of me
that glows from this and the part
of me that’s so afraid.