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The feel of a butterfly's wings as it flutters by

Gently tickling one's arm

Delicate wings that will quiver no more

With the waning of the season

The warmth of a hug from a treasured friend

Hours before her tranquil death

Though life with one's cherished angel dead is fraught

With misery, sorrowful despair

It brings, through the acute suffering

A tender remembrance

A sensitivity to the minute details of human existence

Tears of joy, intensity of feeling

A deeper understanding of one's inner self

And so, it is true what they say

It is better to have loved and lost

Than to have never loved at all

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