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@£¤$==:,,, i follow the tire tracks west. they go ,,,:==$¤£@
#@£¤$==:,, parallel with the railroad, with its ,,:==$¤£@#
##@£¤$==:, endless mirrors looking kinda oily. an ,:==$¤£@##
#@£¤$==:,, incredible power bound there... there's ,,:==$¤£@#
@£¤$==:,,, a wire fence to separate the two roads. ,,,:==$¤£@
£¤$==:,,,, ,,,,:==$¤£
¤$==:,,,,, even though there's a foggy quality to ,,,,,:==$¤
$==:,,,,,, the air, the path i follow is glowing. ,,,,,,:==$
==:,,,,,,, a yellow-green moss has taken hold ,,,,,,,:==
$==:,,,,,, where the machines who made these ,,,,,,:==$
¤$==:,,,,, tracks once disturbed the clover field. ,,,,,:==$¤
£¤$==:,,,, ,,,,:==$¤£
@£¤$==:,,, we're off the season when the birds ,,,:==$¤£@
#@£¤$==:,, sing beautifully. these days it's just ,,:==$¤£@#
##@£¤$==:, screeches, or calls for help. ,:==$¤£@##
#@£¤$==:,, ,,:==$¤£@#
@£¤$==:,,, i think of the jackdaw i maimed ,,,:==$¤£@
£¤$==:,,,, yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate. ,,,,:==$¤£
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