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I meet a wooden door with a Snowman. The sound of the doorbell, and the opening of the second door, relishes me next to the ventilators in ASB. Speedometers wind me up to the longest balconies, and Borcht and Varensky show me the Instagram likes. Distractions and misalignment in my nerves spell the word for a word. Eye for an eye, unfollows put my name in Zoe. Soccer. Stalker, lekker, lecker, and a VADER sentiment. Your notification pulls me back from seeing the next comment, followed by a raid of 10 drones, inviting me to look down. You grin at me with a megaphone.
Do you want to play catch or a game at Karpaty Lviv?
I don't have an umbrella but my blue Lamborghini is parked 400m from here.
Listen or sprint until the sirens come.

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