Falling Pieces

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We throw silver confetti in the conservatory,
the paper raining down in laughter,
flicker fluttering in the dusk.
You ask for more, more,
thrown higher, thrown faster.
Comets that catch the light,
the restoration of Pluto and other underdogs.
Rockets that reach beyond chemotherapy,
the moonshine miracle of a mastectomy,
all the magic we can muster.

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