“A mile and a labyrinth of my terror ahead/It’s still not enough to keep you dead” – NM
“In my mortar of mind,/I would grind her star/Remnants to dust,/Coat my skin till I shine/Blue, gold, silver.”- SM
“I will submerge myself in ice-cold water/and touch the very buttom of/June, July, and August” – AS
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