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chronique de l' amour.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
it is the most complex thing.
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that leaves no other time.
since everything is in our heads.
with a fountain pen in the first place.
machines of loving grace.
but i wish i could remember.
it is the most complex thing.
congestive heart failure.
vonnegut.
and i'll be secure for a little.
twist and rinse.
october.
you have to want it.
she'll give you a toothache.
my oyster.
the world at large.
never be sad.
ascending peculiarity.
she smiled and left.
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