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Ahye bitch ya eyes, and pitch the green lasses of lump pupils, distills, the fidgit statues, as cold as fridges, hanging by the reservoir r
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A few simple words of love's reflection.
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The light dims in an over crowded roomby Lavender Butterfly 42 lines, 4 comments, on Nov 28 4:04 AM 2007. In Spiritual, Personal, Presence
