Rising Lines

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Displacementia and home again. The sun returns and the spirit of
trim is present to welcome the dawn. Why am I drawn? Where does
my soul glide within the confines of this watery destiny? This is my destiny
as well. So it is. I was born here. I was fed here. I cried here and a part of
me has died here. I've laughed here and I've shouted here, just eager to
exist in this microcosm of few souls that converge with their fiber dolphins
to tap into the spirit again. 4 of these souls were out that day.