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Once, we blew up, tied, stringed and hung
hundreds for a party.
Once, we wished a big bunch
would lift and carry us away.
Once, a helium parrot
hovered on our ceiling
until it deflated
and took to following us
around the room
and sitting on our shoulders.
Once, backyard warfare
exploded from tiny balls
Once, hundreds of pink ones
said farewell to a tiny lost girl.
Once, we didn’t know the journey
or the cost
of our discarded colour scraps.