So many centers
So many lights
Where do you think you are?
Where do you think you should be?
We used to unfold maps
Crease by crease
And there we were
At the heart
Of the Continent
Folding them back
Was impossible
Never right
Always crumpled and scrunched
The Heart of the Continent
Never back where it should be
Where you should be
Where you think you should be
So many centers so many lights
So many dots
So so many lines
Heart of the Continent
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