a little white bear has a story to tell. he cannot name his silent story; his whispers: they are far too thin. his fur is imitation; his bright wool hat is far too small. he'll never tell us white bear stories. bright woolen scarf, bright woolen hat, little white bears, distract us at times. but are not helpful. she's had a fright and doesn't want to die today, or even tonight and not before she's found the love no one can ever buy. she'll never whisper answers to the riddle we both know (it makes her want to run and scream.) but she won't say the words that she can't even dream.
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