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The Training III

Autumns refunded. Sinking typing eczema. A thing to the past of your liking,
the rivets, holds
of cauldron-based tsunamis. Walking porcelain
stuffed to the very end of this change. Shallow graves, oh they're
There, too, looking for you, asking how you'd been the day you passed away

To a sadness a move scrapes through a skin a lion makes in its purr.

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