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Just look at my tapestries
not my trapped face
alone in a rip tide

I've been an organic factory, churning

alone in the printed walls, there is
a creature free of system
a sung form waiting

we live in an internal sea; this ancient area

a tufted network
and lies behind the breast bone
what ties an atom to a neighbor by the lens

I felt the blood which is being battered
force winds back across understanding of crystal
to decay somewhere in the north

scores dead, thousands of homes and buildings
the body can show little more

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