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scarablisten carefully there is a wasteland under my skin a great starless expanse and under its ceiling these agents these tireless agents of paralysis these grains of sand plumbing a glass abyss through a pinhole bottleneck the patter of sand--listen carefully as I pace this paved track bisecting a trackless expanse this wasteland under a starless ceiling the bland gray of a grain of sand stuck in the pinhole bottleneck of an abysmal hourglass listen carefully I bisect this expanse this gray abyss this glass ceiling I an agent of paralysis I a tireless agent of sand I turn this turd of sand across the landscape and it is the sun it is time I open the door of the underworld wide as the pinhole bottleneck of an hourglass I an agent tirelessly bisecting an expanse of skin my skin which I plumb to reach the gray underworld through the pinhole I can see stars look look there I can see stars |