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Epilogue

Epilogue by Dawn Sands But the purest memory is the storybook moment when we stood there, rain-drenched girls, elbow-high, and for once we became the characters we pencilled to paper like prayers as she asked the question every ten-year-old soul wants to hold in her heartbeat forever: can we be best friends? No popularity contest, no magic wish. Just two clouds of loneliness converging in a clap of thunderlight, a starlit dream to cradle us till next winter. Young Poets on the Underground

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