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Distress call. Derogatory confession in dark crystal-reflected company. Quitting entire populations & listening still to lies--we float warm through our own impressions of a likely reality. Wishful thinking on songs, at dawn's last unlit plateau. Look down to beat-up, well-loved flat sandaled memories--beautiful? Of course, that morning-after awards fumbling, must be savored and kept well-hidden from proponent fools of well-rehearsed love at first touch. Curvaceous lettered thoughts in-bred from scrawling, scribbled (raw) & bloody emotion coloring that tearful pink. Stressed lull, lullabying the frozen infant to wiggle, once more its toes.

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