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Today, alarmingly close to those fields of gray.
Floating on my back in a lifeless ocean of dreamlike folly.
I try not to lean too far over the edge for fear of falling in.


This is my summer home.
This is my winter home.
This is the place I try not to visit but always do.
A place where the door is always open
and the curtains are always closed.


ray strickland

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