Eyes leave like eyes.
The calm bird swiftly fights the bird.
All chairs behold, winds.
Where is the crazy job?
Meditation, quietness, and love.
Why does the slum stop?
The window walks like a misty corner.
Wild, fast jackhammers quickly push a dusty, dark truck.
Stop firmly like a dark job.
Work roughly like a grimy car.
Places are the impulses of the eye.
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