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zumee Aug 2021
nothing is perfect
fortunately

everything is perfect
unfortunately
zumee Jul 2021
Across the night, an open hunt
at break of dawn, a peekaboo...
I, trailing silver wolf
You, golden caribou
zumee Jul 2021
if you could remember
the process
by which
you came
into becoming
you would go
zumee Jul 2021
You are in a room, inside a house.
The door of the house is closed.
The door of the room is open.
The window of the room is open.

The door of the house is being opened.
You hear the sound of the opening house door
through the window of the room, from outside the house,
through the door of the room, from inside the house,

simultaneously.
zumee Jul 2021
People are squishy,
little
gateways into the void
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