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The Cracklims live inside the dark,
In the nooks and crannies of the tree bark.
In the slits of sidewalks and between the walls,
Waiting silently for a trip, tumble or fall.
You see the Cracklims like the space
Between the books and the bookcase.
They like the hidden, the tight, the narrow;
In those gaps the Cracklims will burrow.
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