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at night i crimsoned my fingers-tips and the ichor ring to clasp my knuckle t i ght ;
handfuls of cranberries, p i ll o w lips,acrumpledshirt & ; bloody sibylline verses bright
that blur and crease the crumples of tissue, prose to be red/ missing reason and r i i ii ime.
or weren't you aware that it passes in stops fits and tantrums?, how florid the gore of time
lyrics to a Lullaby, don't struggle like that or | the spiderman is having you for dinner tonight
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