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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1981135
Where there is no light or day.
Sliding down plutonian hills.
Into an inky bay.
I see the lightning strike.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
The rower comes and begs me on.
Earless. Eyeless. Mouthless. Noseless. Numb.
I ride with it. It knows the way.
It takes me to that unfathomable shore.
Where there is no light or day.
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