The Meadow 89 —A place born without fire I shudder this (I), and shoulder that (ii) while beneath my tongue I solder symbols of each alphabet that enumerate lost iii To be found, i listened to country music which reminds me that I am dark skin and home is always separated from the body when its dark, in light of this i begin to find peace in—iib. I mean all things found are all preserved to be found.
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