Crossing 11th, just east of The Market, Dome sets west, suits and vests fall off in The Park, a village within the village, where everyone knows your dog~s name, his untamed tail wagging inside antique glass doors, heart-pine floors skipped a beat past real-wood heat, eight-seat eating, kitchen cook~n by itself, an elf serving out back where fantasy plantings got me dealing with feeling so~Keebler
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