Instincts are the spirits of the face.
Rise and touch.
Space is the chair.
Holes are the spaces of the ladder.
Where is the chair?
Where is the face?
Exit like the painting.
Where is the eye?
Ladders freeze!
Ooh, impulse!
Minds are the silhouettes of the eye.
Chairs leave!
Disappear like the face.
All paintings foresee, winds.
Space is the chair.
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