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Skin sheds like seasons dispersed, landed feet first, cursed by what then was the worst, but built foundation grounded i exposed...from soil/

a compound seeded in rows/
unknown from palms like pondered stonehedge growth/

so we change and wrinkles sketch out stencils for grey age, i broke bones casting fingertips gripped with canes/

hunched back from built up raps idolizing notre dame,
trying to live...
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stina:
i like atmosphere.. smile