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The Move

 The Move

Xylene, Toluene, trichloroethylene,

The smell,

Prior paint peeled away and fell.

All off-white, only ever warmer; morning sunlight in the east windows

1887, a ship-builder discussed between three widows,

That line there, fixed up by The Man, too

Them floorboards wouldn’t look as good as The Man could do.

Where did he go? One asked inside of the plain room,

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