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Part one of five or the rare Vanity Fair shots, featuring poem by Maya Angelou.

| We Had Him.

Beloveds, now we know that we know nothing, now that our bright and shining star can slip away from our fingertips like a puff of summer wind.

Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace. Sing our songs among the stars and walk our dances across the face of the moon. |

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