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Jan 2021
there's a cold in the

grey outside, perspectively

sectioned off.

its breathy paint keeps

running down and

across frozen surfaces.

there's a window to it,

which drifts--oddly enough

to become two dimensionally

sequestered in walls.
Onoma
Written by
Onoma  (N)ow(Y)ou(C)an
((N)ow(Y)ou(C)an)   
190
     Miracle Beyond Me and Khoisan
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