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 | Time becoming compressed under its own tides, igniting   | |   2021-02-24 |
 | forgotten fears, one empty street after another, while   | |              |
 | they run after and out of it.  The tea turned cold and   | |______________|
 | loneliness tasted sour, but giving up wouldn't make it   |
 | less of a game.  And who was to teach them how to play   |
 | if none was to be lost or prized or slept uppon?         |
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 |                         ((Sophia Loizou, Inner Dreams))  |
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