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acclimodept’s inception

water warrants, by its winding: burning is a brand of binding.

wendigo whispers on the wing: skinning skies soothes star[v]ing’s sting.

willow waves in winter wild: choices chisel chief from child.

in the white between day and night, the acolyte is winnowhittled. waking, muscles aching, he’s acclimated by as much as he’s be[en]littled.

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