,,,,,,,,:~ ~:,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,: :,,,,,,,,,
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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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