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Splendid Effervescent Eccentric

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Thursday, January 5th, 2012
10:40 pm - Flowers

a sequel of sorts to the last piece "under the rain"

It had been 3 months since Tommy had returned to her, but not in the fashion she has imagined. She shifted uncomfortably in the wind, pulling her jacket more tightly around her shoulders. She glanced down at the tightly bound bouquet in her hands. It was a sprig of wildflowers, moderate to the beauty that was Tommy in his grandeur.

She bent down to place the flowers before the tombstone, with the name etched into gray stone. She inhaled deeply, her breath hitching at the back of her throat a small sob escaping. She ran her finger along he etched name, "oh Tommy, how can i go on without you? Why'd you leave me?" she closed her eyes tightly. She couldn't hardly blame him. She knew what he had done had been noble, everyone reminded her so. But did they all know what he'd left behind?

Yes because of him 3 men had lives they didn't think they'd return with, but at what cost? Just look at what he'd left behind. She choked back another sob, and cradled her burden tightly. There were things she had to deal with in the absence of her Tommy, she had to be strong without him. Deep within her lay the last remaining seed of her tommy, she broke out in rolls of tears now. What had he left behind? Her hand trembled as she smoothly arranged the flowers over his grave. She bit her lip, rubbing her stomach thoughtfully "baby girl, thats your father, he was a very brave man, and too stupid for his own good." she laughed and leaned forward, kissing the tombstone "I love you Tommy."

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10:31 pm - Under the rain

Graduation was quickly approaching, and Tommy and Sarah were nervous. They were nervous because they knew what would become of them after high school. In three weeks Tommy would be turning 18 and enlisting in the military. He came from a long line of military personnel and Sarah could never imagine asking him to forgo it, knowing how important it was to him, even though it terrified her. And so she would wait for him, no matter how long it took.

The weeks passed by in a blur, full of long-full glances, handholding walks, and sweet kisses. The night before he was scheduled to ship out it rained heavily, but that didn't matter to them, they were too involved in making their last moments together last.

Tommy held tightly on Sarah, laying on the old couch of her mother's house that felt more like home than his own house did. He looked into the eyes of his girlfriend longingly "Hey babe, lets go for a walk."

Sarah looked to Tommy, a disapproving sigh, "but its raining out Tommy" she said exasperatedly. Instead of answering tommy just pulled her to the door, stopping briefly to put on their jackets.

It was exhilarating running through the rain, but it wasn't helping at all with preventing them from getting soaked to their skin. They finally made it to Tommy's unwitting destination, the gazebo in time square where they had met. Tommy pulled sarah into the shelter of the overhang.

They held each other tightly, cuddling, opening open to one another. It poured thoroughly around them, curtaining them to the outside world. In that silence, closed off to everyone they spent their last moments together in the same place they spent their first moments together giving themselves to one another completely, under the blanket of rain.



current mood: tired

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Thursday, December 22nd, 2011
2:07 pm - Sorrow & Happiness
So I'm almost one third of the way! But I'm definetly not making it in a year... not even if I wrote a piece a day for the next month and  a half... Heh. Well maybe my goal should be to get halfway in a year? Ha. It's been a busssy year, and I'm using that as my totally lame excuse. Anyways I'm taking short fiction next semester and I'm going to write short fiction like hell, so theres that. I've been experimenting with villanelles cause I love them. These two are companion pieces, which is why I'm posting them together. I may write a couple more villanelles as well. Also I like the next few themes coming up, so who knows, maybe I'll write like the wind the next couple weeks! ;)

Sorrow

These words aren't easy, I hope you see.
We were beautiful, pristine and clear, and true,
and I shattered it all, with my poisonous words.
I broke it, I broke you, I broke us,
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry.
We were all too convenient and beautiful.

And I never really liked beautiful.
I liked broken and disfigured, you just couldn't see,
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry,
You were so in love with me, its true,
I'm a harpie and ripped it up, screwed up us.
And I knew to you words weren't just words.

My words were cruel, more like daggers than words,
I broke us, every little thing that was beautiful.
Remember how nothing was you and I, and everything was us?
I broke that, everything pleasant to see,
I know you loved me, it was so very true,
and I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry,
you used to write me poems, and told me the power of words,
there were no lies between us, only the truth,
you told me I was beautiful, so very beautiful,
you opened me up, there was nothing you couldn't see,
there was no one quite like us.

I just couldn't handle the idea of us,
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry.
I felt so constricted, I couldn't even see,
it burned, all of it, and the words were no longer words,
they were feelings, and it was too bright, too beautiful,
I felt scorched, and I ran, that's the truth.

And now it feels more like a lie than true.
Everyone says I was just afraid of us,
that I just want to ruin everything that is beautiful.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry.
I know these are just words, but our words were never just words,
I hope you you can still see.

I hope you can see the truth,
in my words about us,
that I'm sorry, and we were beautiful.

Happiness

It's that smile, like a burst of sunshine,
your laugh, like thunder rolling,
the way your arm fall alongside me,
and fresh cut grass floods my senses.
Your piercing stare, can only be happiness,
I'd be content forever to live in your eyes.

Heaven sings when your eyes meet my eyes,
the hazel of yours burn like the sun,
and I know I'm falling into happiness,
its like falling down a hill and rolling and rolling,
the only thing stopping me is you filling my senses.
When you smile you kill me.

You sometimes ask what would you do without me,
and than I see myself in the reflection of your eyes,
and I know I've lost all my common sense,
and we lay side by side, soaking up sunshine,
for just a minute you're only mine, and than we're rolling,
rolling through something greater than happiness.

When I'm with you I'm happiest,
But it kills me to think you could be happy without me,
and than I'm falling, no longer the same giddiness as rolling,
just dreaming of you is enough in my eyes,
To me, you're something more, something greater than the sun,
I know it doesn't make much sense.

But screw that, to me, you are my senses,
you're the world, my life, all of my happiness,
You make the world spin and the sun shine.
You've always meant more to me,
in ways you'll never see with mere eyes,
it's something like rolling.

And rolling, rolling, and rolling,
and I fall into you, and through you, filling my senses.
You're lovely beyond anything seen with mere eyes,
and you always fill me with unbelievable happiness,
I'll melt in your touch, if you'll only hold me,
your eyes are like the sunshine.

The sunshine of your eyes falls in rolls,
as you hold me tight, I can not control my senses,
my happiness lives in your eyes.


current mood: festive

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Saturday, December 3rd, 2011
5:10 pm - Between the Silence so Much is Said
Your eyes fall on mine,
I know not who you are
but I feel it in my heart,
foolish things are said,
I'd defend you till the end.
And every day we're like this,
silently wondering why or how.
And there's a peace to it,
in not knowing, just believing.

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Thursday, November 3rd, 2011
9:16 pm - Sound of the Night
There was a call,
in the night things ache.
Bones rattle and werewolves moan.
My disposition is a bit unknown.
Cobwebs are creepy,
but tequila is soothing.
Can't sleep- things are heard in the night.
Wide awake now.
Thump thump, goes my heart.
Crash bang, seeing stars.
And blood, and blood, and blood.
Frightful accidents,
the bones are rattling.
Thump thump, thump thump.
There was a call,
and an answer.
The lights go out.
Left wondering- in this
old creepy home.

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9:10 pm - Womenly Love
Title subject to change...

Pale as a flower, delicate as so,
She is my world, the only thing worth seeing.
Our love is burning, ambitions low,
I'm lost in your eyes, love is so freeing.

You are my only reason for being,
together we're one, a perfect union.
Forbidden or shunned, together we stand,
Our passion, a powerful fusion.

In love we use our own tuition,
true love is natural, it knows no bounds.
We burn bright, theres no other conclusion,
our love is true without standard grounds.

Love of two women almost unheard of,
its all we know, a beautiful love.

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8:54 pm - Foreign
She doesn't know who she is,
she doesn't know what she wants,
shes everything I am and nothing you're looking for.
Everything seems so foreign through a looking glass.
It's like nothing I know,
nothing I understand.
And you're everything I find wrong,
It's so convoluted.
And you're speaking Spanish and I'm speaking German,
there's no way to reach this.
We'll never be in perfect harmony,
not as long as there's a world between us.
Things are so foreign.
It's like a puzzle that I'll never solve,
life’s great mysteries are laid out before me.
And there's no guide,
no way to decide,
who I am and what I'll be are all a mystery.
In this foreign text we call life
I'm more a philosopher than interpreter.

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Tuesday, October 25th, 2011
10:06 pm - Language is Dead

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10:04 pm - The Ballad of Him and Him
Not every love story is the same,
this is the story of him and him.
He met him one chilly fall afternoon.
It was in a coffee shop they both kinda frequented,
He ordered the tea and sat in his usual spot.
In came him, and caught his eye.
Double shot espresso, 2 sugars, no cream.
He perused the sports section of the NY times.
He didn't mean to stare,
but his book wasn't nearly as interesting.
He caught his eye, over the top of his paper. 
Their eyes locked, an neither moved. 
He moved to the seat beside him "Good Morning".
"Morning" he said, with a soft smile.
They stared at one another, sizing each other up,
and than, at the same time, "I like your", "You're very"....
And laughed, and laughed long into the night.
He worked for a sports agency- publicity.
He worked at a bookshop his sister owned.
They got coffee every morning at 8.
He was afraid to tell his coworkers,
he invited him to Thanksgiving at his sisters.
One of their parents didn't approve.
One of his coworkers found out.
Names were tossed around, like "fag" and "queer",
He didn't know how to handle it.
That wasn't what he was. 
They fought, they made up, they broke up.
He wouldn't return his calls.
He was lost and alone and singled out.
He missed him so, but wasn't afraid of a label,
he knew he could never overcome that.
The next time he saw him he had a girl.
He cried that night, he never cries. 
His sister tells him she loves him.
He moves on and joins a publishing company.
They meet for coffee one chilly Autumn day.
He has a new job, and he's sorry.
Maybe, just maybe he's not alone. 

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9:14 pm - A Boy Who Never Sticks Around
Inspired by the song Say Yes by Elliot Smith

I'm in love with a boy who never sticks around.
I never knew I'd be this girl,
I never thought silence could hurt so.
I'm in love with unreturned text messages,
it's true, I'm a bit broken.

I'm in love with your back talk,
I'm in love with being lost.
I've forgotten what it feels like.
Yea I'm a bit selfish and all too jealous,
and I'm in love with a boy who never sticks around.

You'll never know it but I'm not as tough as I look,
You'll never see the next day regret face I have especially for you.
I'm in love with a boy who never sticks around.
I'm in love with self hate,
and it's all so terribly beautiful.

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Wednesday, October 19th, 2011
6:24 pm - Tears
So I'm skipping Trouble Lurking for now, but only because I want to do it later. It will involved my untitled space adventure epic. So I will work on it LATER. So here is tears.

She lays by me, so so quietly,
like nothing is wrong,
but I know something is wrong.
Something is wrong with us.
And she lays like nothing is wrong.
But I hear tears,
quiet, quiet whimpering,
and I know something is wrong.
I try to pull her closer, closer,
but she shrugs away, involuntarily.
And there are the tears.
Shes barely trying to hide them now.
And I wonder where we went wrong,
what happened to us.
I listen to her quiet sobbing in the night,
unable to touch her, to reach her.
My own cheeks are moist now.
And tears, and tears, and tears.
I hold onto myself,
willing the tears back
as I stare on into the darkness.
Where did we go wrong?

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6:02 pm - The Beauty Around Us
We're all lost in this world,
trying to be something we're not,
striving for the unattainable and perfect,
You are beautiful all the time.
Don't you forget we're perfectly imperfect,
every one of us striving to be the same.

But none of use are the same.
Trying to be more than we can,
trying to be more than we're worth.
You're beautiful to me.
I wish you'd see how I see us, all of humanity.
You're perfect, please call me.

You're the world, or something greater.
You're imperfect and you'll never be a dancer.
You're perfect to me all the same.
And as we strive to be what we'll never be,
you have to see you're beautiful to me.
I'll never be more, but I'll always be yours.

We may never attain what we fight for,
the world is incomplete.
And as we live our lives we search.
We search for beauty and hope and wanting.
We believe in our own ugliness and dispassion,
and we are blind, blind to the real things.

My hopes for you are great.
You can be anything,
you are everything.
But you will never feel how I feel.
So we go on living, not knowing.
You are beautiful.

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Sunday, October 9th, 2011
8:02 pm - Midnight Poem
Typed this up on my phone while walking down the street. Safety hazard- what's that? 

On timid dark nights we meet on the road when no one else is there.
I know you by your walk and you know me by my contemplative sighs.
Our eyes lock and can not tear away as we pass through one another's lives.
For a brief fleeting moment I am not alone on this dark night.
It feels grand, like you and I are the only two souls in the world.
And I am not alone because I have you and you have me.

We dance around it for sometime, what it means and what we are.
We pass by one another, denying the moment, losing the connection.
And we're gone and alone once again and nothing else matters.
And we're left wondering, wondering what could have been, what had been.
Left wondering who we are and who we could have been together.
What matters is gone and we're left alone again in the dark.

Our moments are lost, we're lost, we're alone again and solely purposeless.
We move on in the night, on our own, not afraid like before, but in control.
And we've possibly gained something, in our great loss, and we're more confident now.
And we move on and on and on again, in the dark of the night.
We move on with our lives, separate and alone, the thoughts of one another fleeting.
And we think back sometimes, of midnight meetings in the cool dark air.


current mood: tired

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Wednesday, October 5th, 2011
6:15 pm - Cat & No Time
The cat got out. I didn’t mean to, but he slipped between my legs and out the door and down the lane. Mary won’t be pleased. The cat has gone, and Mary won’t be pleased. He ran down the lane, past the firehouse, past the Robinson’s, past the ice cream parlor, and all the way down the lane. The cat is gone. The cat got out. Mary won’t be pleased. The cat’s run gone. The cat is gone. The cat ran out into the street, Mr. Robinson did not see the cat, and now the cat is gone. The cat got out. Mary won’t be pleased.
106 words
 
No time is what I’ve got. Time is gone, and gone, and gone. The end of times, and so much less. Just an eternal unending rhythm. Back and forth, forth and back, times not on my side. I’m running out. Running dry. Running. I’ve got no time. Time is not on my side. I’m out of time.
57 words

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Sunday, September 18th, 2011
8:27 pm - Luna and Libby

They met at 8. It was a whirlwind romance. Libby would follow Luna to the end of the world, or the nearest creek. They'd swim all day as children, and then Luna would help Libby to strip down all her clothes and dry off so she wouldn't be cold and wet. Libby would appreciate the sentiment. When they were 13 Libby was put into the honors classes in high school. Luna would help her mom out after school and didn't have time to study. The two girls would still make as much time to see each other as possible. They would have sleepovers and Libby would help Luna with the laundry and dishes so they'd have time to watch scary movies. The girls loved scary movies. Libby loved romance novels. Luna didn't have time for that stuff. At 14 Luna matured a lot faster than Libby and had her first boyfriend. He was 16, had a car, smoked cigarettes, and vandalized parking signs. Luna didn't have much time for Libby. Libby would lose herself in worlds of her own where the fair maiden always got her prince and always lived happily ever after. She wondered why the fair maidens never got a princess, and why she was different than most other people. At 16 Libby realized she was a lesbian. At 17 she realized she was in love with Luna. At 16 Luna dropped out of high school and started working full time in an autobarn her ex-boyfriend introduced her to. At 17 Luna was doing car detailing and paying her mother's medical bills. At 18 Libby got into her top college choices, all of which were far away. At 18 Luna was promoted to manager of that autobarn and only talked to Libby very infrequently. At 19 Libby had her first lesbian sexual experience, she tried pot, she drank vodka, she shaved her head for a time, and she dropped out of her biomedical engineering program. At 19 Luna got her GED, threw her good for nothing boyfriend out of her apartment, put her mother in a nursing home, and took some vocational classes for mechanical engineering at her local community college. In the summer of her 19th year Libby returned home from college and saw Luna for the first time in 16 months. Libby had a lip ring, a mohawk, she didn't wear a bra anymore, she was toying with women's studies and environmental science, and she was still madly in love with her best friend. In the summer of her 19th year Luna was working harder than ever before, she had gotten a starting position in a car garage owned by a friend, was reading shakespeare for the first time, had had to put her mother on life support, and bought a kitten. She was really glad to see her best friend Libby after so long. At 21 Libby moved in with Luna and transferred to a nearby school. She grew her hair out again and decided on a major in biochemistry. She still read romance novels but she no longer wondered why the fair maiden never got the princess. At 21 Luna was co-running that same small independently owned garage, her mother had passed away, and she started her own autoworks assistance website. They named their cat Frankenstein. 




current mood: tired

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8:01 pm - Human Nature
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Monday, August 8th, 2011
7:59 pm - Vacation
 In a weeks time I'll be laying on the sunny shores of a foreign land. I'll be soaking the sun into my cream white skin, drinking in the harmful UV rays as if they were fruit punch. I'll be splayed on white sands, nearly matching the tone of my own skin, a chameleon on foreign waters. I'll be throwing back tropical drinks, mojitos and daiquiris, while the cool breeze plays at my hair. My eyes will drink in the crystalline seascapes, as my mouth drinks in the cool beverages. The beauty of a new land, will excite my senses thoroughly.

Word Count: 100 

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7:51 pm - Fortitude
She pushed on,
despite all things,
or maybe because of it.
She held tight,
through the weary tears,
or blood stained bottom lips.
She grabbed hold of it,
and shook it thoroughly,
perhaps bearing her teeth at times.
She reveled in it,
but just a little,
and when she wasn't petrified.
She held steady,
like a rock on a stormy beach,
or the tree stump she knew she was.
She examined it,
poking at its weaknesses,
and hollowing them out.
She lived it,
every single moment
of every single day.
She thrived from it,
because it made her stronger,
and she would never change it.

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Saturday, August 6th, 2011
11:33 am - How We Met in 10 Ways
So this is something I've been meaning to write for awhile... It's a look at a two  people and how the two of them could have met in 10 different ways and how their relationship and their lives would have been different if they had met at any one of those times in their lives. Each part is meant to be a stand alone piece of flash fiction, but they also all work together as a whole. Also each section is 100 words! This was super fun to write. I kinda want to write more pieces like this, but than I feel like this one wouldn't be as cool... Ha.

1
He chased after the girl, a laugh gathering deep in the back of his throat. He could barely keep it in any longer, the laugh rolled up and out of him, trailing along behind him. He finally caught up to the blonde in pigtails, and grabbed for one of them. She ducked her head and he missed, but he was determined yet. He let his enthusiasm take control and spurt him forward till he was right on top of her. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of fabric, shouting “Gotcha!” The girl collapsed in laughter, her mom called.

2
He thought the sight of the girl in brightly colored florals was a welcome intrusion. He was just another lost soul in a sea of black, mohawk tipped with a golden green. She swayed in time to the music in a way that captured his eyes. He came to dance beside her, she smiled to him. He radiated in a way he'd never seen a 14 year old girl do. “This your first time?” he inquired nervously, but she could not hear him. His eyes fell to the peace sign around her neck, who was this girl? Music radiated.

3
The girls beautiful blonde locks curled around his fingertips. They lay side by side on the grass. She had scattered flower petals about them. The boy couldn't explain how this girl made him feel. They were the strangest couple, her being so carefree and spontaneous, him usually being the disappointed type. She turned to his ear and whispered “Let's run away together” the thought came out of nowhere. He agreed it was a very nice idea. She took his hand in hers and placed a kiss between his knuckles. He could barely breath thinking about her lying beside him.

4
It was the grand opening, he couldn't understand why he was there. His date of the night insisted they stop by, she was a bit of an art nerd. They moved from painting to painting, and he looked on boredly. He made an excuse and escaped from his date, he rounded a corner to find one of the artists talking about her painting. She was completely enthralled in her work, and he was captivated by the way she talked about it. He couldn't understand what the painting meant, but he thought her soul must be beautiful. He forgot his date.

5
It was a chilly autumn day. His thesis was due in the morning. The buzz of the coffee shop drifted through his ears, it was a beautiful melody to his thirsty ears. The girl in line behind him bumped up against him. She looked startled at him, her blue eyes shining “Oh I'm so sorry!” He waved her off, smiling. Normally an interruption would annoy him, but he found her to be enchanting. When he had his coffee in hand he asked her to sit with him. She agreed, they sat in silence, sipping at their paper cups peacefully.

6
She worked for a fashion magazine, Elle, or Vogue, or one of those others. He wasn't really sure, he just took the calls. She took him to the computer in question. Their system software was corrupt. He sat where she gestured and immediately got to work. She stood over him, following his every move with her eyes, her warm breath beating down on his neck. He wondered if she liked music, and what accept a date if he offered, but it was quite obvious she was way out of his league. He tried to focus on the job at hand.

7
She thought the guy singing was kind of cute. He had a stubborn look to him, but he was singing in a karaoke bar. Her friends giggled when she told them so. They thought she had poor taste. She swayed her hips to the music. Her white fitted dress immediately caught his attention as she moved. They looked eyes over the heads of the crowd. He smiled at her, and she returned it. His eyes took in the soft textures of her curled blonde hair. When his song was up he would ask the bartender to send her a drink.

8
She was chasing after her kids, he thought she had a lot of energy. He helped his son to reach the too tall monkey bars. She was suddenly beside him “I used to come here as a child” she said as if to no one in particular. “Me too” he noticed with disappointment the ring on her finger, but he was married too. He sometimes wondered about missed connections, maybe he married too young. He glanced at the beautiful blonde beside him. He would have never had a shot with her, being the asshole he used to be.

9
He was retired, divorced, captured in a custody battle, and tired. He rolled his shopping cart down the aisles of the supermarket thoughtlessly. He had no idea what brand of creamed corn to buy. In his mindlessness his hand grazed another shoppers. He looked up to see a woman of a similar age, her one blonde hair graying at the sides. She smiled meekly at him, as a woman who has also lost something great. He wanted to invite her to dinner, but he remembered he couldn't cook and he was a miserable old man. Yet her smile said something.

10

The nurses would always watch them. They thought they were the cutest thing. One widowed, one divorced, found each other all these years later in a place like this. They would sit together and listen to the radio. The would hold hands when they thought no one was watching, and sometimes he would stroke her long gray hair. Her eyes were still a lovely blue, and she would wear a flower pinning back her locks. They were irresistibly intoxicating to watch, the way they'd grasp each other during polk night Wednesdays on the dance floor, swaying in time to music.

current mood: pleased

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Sunday, July 31st, 2011
10:45 pm - Flash Fictions 2
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