In her classroom our speculations ranged the world.
She aroused us to book waving discussions.
Every morning we came to her carrying new truths, new facts, new ideas
cupped and sheltered in
our hands like captured fireflies.
When she went away a sadness came over us,
But the light did not…
Always kills me.
(Source: theoppositeofdisappearing)
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Always kills me.
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