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Forget the fair, unfortunate
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Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
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¿Qué hierbas del olvido ha dado el gusto
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one that could memorize
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Lo giorno se n’andava, e l’aere bruno
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behind me. I have come here
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Heart with its hands folded in its lap.
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this sense that all we own
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and the liquid swells set in motion
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The moon blinks inside