On Sunday morning the air is sweet,
orange zest and poppy seeds and
flour pushed across the
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On Sunday morning the air is sweet,
orange zest and poppy seeds and
flour pushed across the
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My Body, My Home
I.
Can I come over tonight?
Yes
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The truth about Dorothy
is that she maybe was right in the words she spoke
as she pushed
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The Walls surround me.
They shrink closer with each breath.
Space is shrinking, air is
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I put one foot in front of the other
On a cold saturday morning
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How we act, walk, stand
Is reflected to the world
We’re windows to home
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Please tell me,
when you tightened my shackles
with
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Start with four walls and a roof
Add a floor, some windows
A door to get inside
Put
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