Wrap
Fold
Wipe
Draw
I slept on patch work.
It wouldn't let go of my head
So without it I left.
I took a walk on balmy feet.
I raced a pamphlet through the door.
It got there first.
There are no more windows where I live
But the sun comes in all the same.
Who pays my rent?
Enough of this.
I want
out.
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