What came of all this? All this… presentation. Are my washed hands clean now, or rather truer bearers of misheld time? “No worry” says the system to the filter… “There is more to come.”
Should I know these seconds? Of future rights or misplaced footprints. I have never been, one, to give, you, frame of reference. Ever.
The gates are open now, the thaw has begun. I am still me though
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