ant5

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the hole dug

in the street

a lily in it

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fallen star

sifts through

your fingers

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somebody’s wound

finds you

in bed

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the worn keys

reflect the light

bulb

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you tell

AI too

many colons

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dilapidated hut

call it jay’s

birdhouse

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my neighbor’s

spaceship

rumbles

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indicative

of your question

dove feather

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his psychosis

it has

an odor

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