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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. ¨¨£££¨¨¨¨¨
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¨¨¨£££¨¨£¨ we're off the season when the birds ¨¨¨¨£££¨¨¨
¨¨¨£¨££¨¨¨ sing beautifully. these days it's just ¨¨¨¨£¨££¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨£££¨¨ screeches, or calls for help. £¨¨¨¨¨£££¨
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£¨¨¨¨¨¨£££ i think of the jackdaw i maimed ¨££¨¨¨¨¨££
££¨¨¨¨¨£¨£ yesterday. i fear the dreaming gate. ¨£££¨¨¨¨£¨
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