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From the Book Of Dreams in Spanish From the top branches of the tamarind tree into my outstretched hands fell brown fruit, ripe and sweeter than anything I had ever tasted. Ravenous, I ate it all, catching it before it touched the ground where it vanished. The book of dreams in Spanish says the tree is my father. The fruit that disappears stands for words not spoken, hopes and wishes left unfulfilled. But it does not tell me why I still feel starved after I eat. 41 ...

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