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The wicked witch skywriting on her broom–
Surrender Dorothy–
Hardly seems aware
Of the Love that wants to
carry her above the cloudy horizon,
The Love that Loves her preciousness while
Adorned as she is in her black dress
And pointed hat
And her own feeble power,
The One who Loves the splendor of her crooked teeth,
Sees her shining soul in the depths of
Her own hell
And cannot wait until she lands
In order to embrace her.

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