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Feet crunching over stones.
Chewing grass.
The world collapses in on itself with a hum that stills.
I close my eyes.
Racing blood.
Vision spinning and compressing.
Becoming peach and gold.
Over the brow.
Leaping on.
On to a crystal slide.
Traversing down to worlds unseen.
Arrival at the purple pool.
Where cockatoos float and splutter.
I look to the edge of the lake.
Standing on thistles where I wade.
and next to me the ice cream whistles.
Or is it just an ice cream whistle.
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