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Oh, squiggly line in my eye fluid. . . .
I see you there, lurking on the periphery of my vision. . . .
But when I try to look at you, you scurry away. . .
Are you shy, squiggly line?
Why only when I ignore you do you return to the center of my eye?
Oh, squiggly line, it's all right. You are forgiven. . . .
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