I am putting dots on maps again.
I wish we were made out of the same material.
Cotton or stars, saltwater or redwood.
It would just be nice to know
that we came from the same place.
There is a crow in the street.
There are many cars coming.
In the bathroom, the mirror says
Look at you. Look at you.
Despite all the sleep,
I look like I've been punched in both eyes.
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