.
A not lost
sole vacuum
front, behind, the horizon
to lose sight.
I can not wait.
How choreography give me?
Not lost, before, behind.
A waltz kills and still, the anxiety of inertia.
I refuse the economy and my pockets are proud of risk in energy, I am extravagant.
Renewal me banned already, I can not remember yesterday.
memory permeable streams flowing on the floor tiled in black.
And I bend beneath the boards curves, and I fold for cete straight
Beyond the horizon, sure of his race, he fled, the child
Certain it himself is to never doubt
never born,
and always dancing.
.
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