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Routes in Soil
I stand in a place of absence. A black void stretching out beyond the length of my sight. In the dark, I see all, for it remains the same here, as it does there, beyond the rim of perception. As I look down, I notice my clothes all perfectly visible, as if the light of day bounces color into my eyes. Yet there is no sun. There is no light. There is no sound.
By Benjamin M. Wilde7 years ago in Poets