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Notre mere de beaute You will never be a white carnation on a wool suit, curly-head. The height of summer comes, nothing can lessen your sweet nothing: self, sweet mouth. Why not hold the white sky and me all the long afternoon? What excess. Just take this leper's foot and chain it to the doghouse; take this collar and pin it to your own white throat. 28 28 Notre mere de beaute You will never be a white carnation on a wool suit, curly-head. The height of summer comes, nothing can lessen your sweet nothing: self, sweet mouth. Why not hold the white sky and me all the long afternoon? What excess. Just take this leper's foot and chain it to the doghouse; take this collar and pin it to your own white throat. ...

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