i'll write simple thoughts for your tenacious personalities, in hopes of jumping borders, patrolled by grimacing men with long, cold guns.

we hike through wet grounds below dark underbrush (you fail to simply recognise it)

and from the concentrated growths built up over centuries, these thoughts emerge

like filthy rats pouring in from gutters and overflowing into the streets scurrying deep into the heart of the city.

perhaps in time you'll find that path we made is a road better travelled.

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