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spring token... as an old stack

in my logarithmic hearth you are my granular memory on scaled thoughts...

my little March 

by abacus of seconds in witch I miss your beat
some algebra of counting my mind whole
on broke geometry of impossible shapes
to make this universe probable

my hacked signal into the matrix... or kite...
my logarithmic function to random sampling life

a trinket worn idea of March


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dupa 30 de ani..

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tickets to flow or overpriced bag of s..t

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