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Abby Travis
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Freewheel
My own freewheel lies on the bottom of a pool Spokes still spinning; it's a real vibration I heal dancing with my foam reflection
My dead end deal lies on the dark floor of a cave Arms are folded over my vapor pages I kneel; bowing to my cryptic sages I don't believe in love anymore
My white boy feel dies on an endless Saturday Sticks are flying over constellation I peel, waiting for arbitration
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