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Hand in Hand
October 20, 2002

He slithers across untrodden dirt paths
Shedding old skin and she bathes in his scent,
Inching closer towards the apple
Through one good eye
Soaring above clouds
And spitting black doom
He can't see what lies beyond
The tall green of the grass
With a noontime sun blazing overhead
And she can't deny that something's gone awry
But they walk, hand in hand
Into the eye of an angelic twister
That uproots homes in its wake