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Wire on a spool,
ready to spring,
loose loops flailing round,
spinning and twanging and
flapping into things.
Until all is unwound,
and lying in a tangle,
like a runover slinky.
And after the wreck,
who will gather it up?
Find the ends,
make it smooth, tidy, perfect again?
And when that has been done,
who will keep it that way?
Pressing it tight so that it will be still.
Who will stay here forever,
holding the coil?
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