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There was an old toy shaped by the sounds to appear glockenspielesque locked into a tetherballed curling. Trickled into rusty shadows peel away at the pages of time into my bones. The harpist who fell off the cliff can still be heard drinking stabs of moonlight underwater. Fingers can be made out snapping up ahead cracking as percussion lines a pledge. This entry was posted in Everything an.
Rien de plus a dire je reste tout simplement moi meme.
Video blog on new things I have got recently and a new upcoming book. People Scare Me A Poem. The Journey to Find a Drink.
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Noël célèbre la naissance de Jesus Christ, fils de Dieu, venu sur terre pour effacer les péchés du monde, mais il avait oublié sa gomme.