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map my dark horizon. i
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one human voice
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What swallows us
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or let them come to us? Is the spirit just an ear
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The wind possessing her, weaving her young veins,
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I will keep all lines of the wind open
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I have outlived most of the parking lot
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Wave and particle, all and none,
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It’s all I have to bring today—
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and suddenly realized Humor