Empty land

There's a traditional land, green hills and bright villages, underneath the sea.

It's wonderful, watching a sketch coalesce, drying the lines.

When a compass is drawn by two poles, in which ocean does it float?

I won't say my emotions are slow to change, but I suspect an ancestor had an affair with an oil tanker.

My undiscovered land's where most people live.

image: poem

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image: set Hear





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