While the light is slowly dying
I love this dark and brightness. The air freezes on the skin, smokes in speaking. The snow glazes like white steel underfoot. I can smell pine needles and blood oranges; I will light a fire before midnight. Hold on to the sun.

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And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
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Nine
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All that falls will rise again.
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Hold on to the sun.
I'll try. You also.