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Once a stolen story Twice an apple almost. Three in grinding glory Four a giving ghost.

I’m mostly unstuck from the woods

Once an apron upright Twice it’s on the floor Three I never looked up Four you shut the door

I’m won’t be unstuck for good

Take me to corner Lay me by the street A hungry running headlight Is flashing on repeat

Four it’s cold and narrow Three was always ending Twice I felt fault line Once I was pretending

Asking all the anxious To lay itself down And leave me to my patience I make a silent sound