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I thought: of course, your mouth, you spoke to me. Then your blue finger, of course it was your finger, you painted with your finger and you painted me with your finger . . . Then appeared to me flames: transparencements of every hand and mouth. Mare and Newborn Foal When you die there are bales of hay heaped high in space mean while with my tongue I draw the black straw out of you mean while with your tongue you draw the black straw out of me. Truth Sharing bread is sharing life 250 door in the mountain ...

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