Where will it go?

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Block. Brick. Block.

Where will it go? Where does this flow?

Clock. Tick. Clock.

When it all happens too much, all at once.

To sit and to watch the world go by, and to never truly know why.

Knock. Kick. Knock.

I feel a pull.

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In that moment, light made darkness. She knows not, but shadows grow…

Click.

And what is more beautiful than time, south of space and west of your heart?

Loop.

What comes after the ineffable flow of heart?