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PATH Song

โœ’๏ธ Roberto Harrison
waking to the news of an eventual collapse, those ejected minds of the walking thing of the speech of birds, they announce their own development from ashes to make a song and deliver the hunted landscape to its stars, those of us who knew something of the engine would remove the approach to animals as a second wind, the coming of pages of light and nectar, but once the arrival of her tent would move the inhabitants of the Sea, and the consciousness of the Ocean to pursue the network that sparks their shining single dream to the pavement, the oceanic feet that would not muse its face or deter those breaks from the second light of the morning, or one would say the easy atonements that their push from the animal would enlarge so that they would speak and we would understand, these assembly code calypsos deter the kindly face that hates and pummels as these will undo their coloring and the fur of the path. do not stop until you know it well with both feet.
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