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  • I have known the taste of salt water,
    and the smell of decaying forests,
    and the cracks in hundreds of sidewalks.
    I have loved the gas pedal,
    and the airport concourse,
    and the ever-changing time zones.
    In all of these places,
    I thought I could find a home in not having one;
    I have chased the sun across the sky so many times,
    not yet ready to admit,
    you never catch up.

    This is not my writing, from what I can search, it has no known author.
    I wish it were mine.
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