Our Vases Were Filled With Wine
M
Mark Heathcote
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As our childhoods spun on a dime
But it wasn't the abstinence of tears.
That made us into granite rocks.
It wasn't Mount Vesuvius...
That turned us each into clay pots.
So what was it, please... answer!
Well, look, look, here's the answer...
It's written on the back of that mirror.
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