love how your second dawn folds the horizon into itself, each step feels like rereading the same word.
If time leans we lean back, we listen for the hush between letters.
I'll keep that syllable underfoot, same note, new weather < would you read it the same tomorrow?
0.00179636 BEE
Tomorrow the word tilts differently. The pause still waits but the weather of it has changed. !PIZZA
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