out of myth
strange beast
features scribbled green
with alien shape
out of pleasure motion verve
no thought of erasure
alone to the four corners of the paper
easily rustled easily bent
its face a smile
mounted admiringly with fridge magnets
long ago
long since removed
lost forgotten
others too
piled back to back
pressed against the whiteness of pages
frozen in it
many upon many
an ice age of them filed away
tonight in the stove it burns
after years a thaw
yet the ice does not melt
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