"What do want to see in me?"
"I want to feel the shifts that make you beckon me forth."
Crestfallen like drill from a wave.
The desert is black. The sky is blue. The river a fallen ribbon cut from above runs like a parched tongue through the lands, dipping below the earth and silently returning in cracks and between broken mountains and hills. Sparkling diamonds, they scurry around like shy beetles herded into one stream of meaning.
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