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The Filmstrip RepeatsTo Adam S. Hewitt's previous piece     It Was Naught But the Toss of a QuarterTo Adam S. Hewitt's next piece

She walked into the end -
Not a void - dark and bleak -
But rather air on strike
For a different breath
From different lungs
And in a matter of weeks she
Found them down the street -
Another bar - another saint
Wearing his hair a different way
And laughing from a different heaven -
An angel she was - is to everyone -
Sent to prove
That eternity unravels
And never begins.