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You called her, “Missy On Her Toes”
in the woods. She shook her head and said
“only if it makes you feel better, I mean it”
and you observed your surroundings, your spatial
understandings and knew it like a tree, a monument,
synapseA grave.
Panoptical graves reflect your lack of city, your city ties
which you must leave behind, backwards or whatever.
like spiral leading,
lead it, bitter, like how Spatial is it?
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from “Gloucester or Whatever”
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