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beneath, I feel unease accordingly and, mute, can hardly bring to mind a lead on what is wrong. It's easy to misread a world's emotions as one's own, to be so plumbed and understood. Swift waves of night formations in the sky, an intense moon upon a chasm: yet am dumb to watch and not look inwardly. The midnight's notch, a staring child open-mouthed, and soon an image set against the dark: unfree so clear, yet in themselves not understood. -- |