Every single piece of land is

At

Mos

Phere

round & profound

carrying a secret

a system

an arrangement

rounded & shaped

a way Of -

dancing with the stars

playing galaxies

“what’s out there?”

“There is where the stars go round”

“Oh, the universe! May I pick one for me?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Did I hear it well?”

“Sorry, no.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sorry, but no.”

                           &nbs...

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