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A whisping shell of what’s genuine
Never as is but as projected
A blur of material things
Some live as shadows
Artificial clones
Wandering
Towards freedom in the dark
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Poetry
Poetry

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Emily Gajda

At 10 A.M., Wells Beach, Maine was too quiet.

I should've been in New York City, working at the publishing house that offered me that internship back in March. I should've been waking up at 7 A.M ...  [+]