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Moments drop from the clouds like fresh ice, slowly chipping the piano keys with their precarious edges.
I held your hand during the storm. A sine wave caught your pattern.
There are too many of me here,
I heard her say, she was in the cylinder with a mirror.
The eruption didn't cause the mud, his primordial slumber never occurred. Did it ever stop dancing?
RANK AM AN A OMEN THY NO!
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