Ending.
July 18, 2019
I am tapping out time near empty corridors hung with pretty pictures although old.
No one comes.
The code is out.
It escaped like snow which is too, cold.
And binary, you know, the code?
But hey, you have gone.
I could go on tapping!
The bread, the wine,
you have taken for fasting,
which you say is everlasting.
Am I?
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