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There's no friend quite like an older sister.
Often when I rummage through our lives,
Memories like orange-colored lanterns
Yield your face, gold against the darkness.
So many times you were what I would be,
Initiating dreams that now are me,
Showing me my youth in all its starkness,
Treating with soft charm my fiercest phantoms.
Each time I think of you, my smile revives,
Recalling when I was your little blister.
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