… up there 
on your pixel green embankment; seemingly spared from the storm…
the dials of time stiffened in their odd resistance to the tug of history and consequence;
not sure of your shades from here, but certain they’re vague — after all, the internet is the loneliest place known, and you’re still in hiding… even after all of this.
Jon Mychal / Toronto — July 19 2014
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