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A Tritina for Janie
Janie was a young girl, scissors in her mouth,
And long black hair that tangled on her hips,
And caught in all the world's fleeting hands.
She came and went from men's tough hands,
And swam under the sky in the river's mouth,
Spending up her old days, swinging young hips.
Janie grew a life in Eatonville's hips,
And had no words, only fine, fine hands,
She was always watching close for god's great mouth.
Janie had Love and Living in her mouth, on her hips, and her fine, fine hands.
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