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In the desert, high canyon and steep steppe, we wept and left footprints. Cascaded through the dusk, and over the endless ribbon. tied to the thrumming of the engine hum, bump, the soundless power of our dynamo, heavier than air still, in flight, nest maker, pointed flock tip my shepherd, I will follow you down, the steep steppe, because I am still curious, wondering, left agape - aghast the thrush and bump of our soundless, hourless flight I used to navigate using those constellations you carried on your shoulders the ability to cross vast expanses at high speed now you paint your own feathers, grow your own wings, sky without me, in discontinuity - silent climb and fall of an atmosphere only we discovered mystery - oceanic undercurrents, to our feeble flight and fell [[Category:Poetry]]
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