From my zero-gravity chair, I see--well, what?-- a garden! where any American friend and a scaly tree, spaced between winds and chimes, would love to be & a rabbit known by scent and stride, & one goo
If it elicit a comfort and sorrow all the way from chin to moist nose, and the nape can curve for talk, well, a dead cat can look like Fay, turned as she is across an ICU cage like a vessel, storm-rac
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