S. Rudanskaya
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Light Heavy

Imprints of Photons

In the beginning
of a change
there are always boxes

The First Position of a Dance

Daybreak
wasn’t always
like this
mouthful of sun
I am glad
the rain broke

Sand Becoming Glass

It rained for hours
the day we were supposed to come here
they used to tell me
the rain
symbolized a washing away

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