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2 - Alice Letowt

2

Air conditioning makes me think of putting down the dog.

Rescue me, I say into a voice message,
place me among the lakes casted by clouds, into a

monochrome pallet of cream,

into the present made of anything but this room
and the dog who might die.
From the mercy of the sky’s gradient tonight,
the velvet the smell of rosemary bushes in the desert after it rains– The dog smells so alive after rolling in rosemary.

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