ant5

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some cobwebs

are meant

to be left

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dusk

the screwdriver makes it

back to the shed

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another

vow

to fix me

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in the empty sky

on a power line

one dove

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this time

the last goodbye

a bit shorter

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you hang up

there are still salt grains

left on the desk

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maybe you can

remain standing once

you’re dead

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she fills you

a bag with red things

a color she hates

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