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Jul 04. 2026
I twist as I rise and turn as I fall, A shape that keeps moving though staying small. Found in a shell or a staircase of stone, I curve through the air like I am being shown. I am not a circle, yet I share its grace, A path that keeps bending in the same little space. What am I, so winding and tight in my style, A shape that keeps turning with natural guile?