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Jul 2022
of passenger cars rides
around. Going up/going down. The heights
are dizzying. The ground is flat. And ***** as
a city rat. When I’m on top, the world

is little. I can pluck it like the strings
of a fiddle. But it's just a mirage of painted red
and purple stars. We're only at odds living
in moving pods.
sandra wyllie
Written by
sandra wyllie  56/F
(56/F)   
111
 
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