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today there is no place you would rather be. the radio dial
is never in the right. again and again crashes the revelation of the static of pebbles with a wave retreating and your left thumb shakes irretrievably above the space bar thinking of the end of the line you have yet to cross that particular t. on an elevator you are asked, what do you need? ten, you reply, and this you will remember for a long time to come. |