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For in grief nothing 'stays put.' One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round.
Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?
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For in grief nothing 'stays put.' One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round.
Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?