The Edge

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By I'm the map I'm the map I'm the map I'm the map I'm the map I'm •

Grade is real. Steep is an idea but falling is touch. Blind is feeling. Cold a reminder of flesh; Withering weather is metaphor icicle branches hold value. Dropping the perception mesmerizing the angle Contrast by the welcomed danger; Fear doesn’t live here. We do.

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February 10, 2014 16:48pat

interesting