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12.2k · Apr 2014
Morning Glory
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
Wilderness their sight, her brown eyes contain the bright
Universe -- she is a graceful phoenix in flight;
Golems of the golden earth bow to this fire bird;
Two fiery wings spread -- she is the light of the world,
Prometheus's daughter, vanquisher of night:
Withered grass resurrect and bloom do flowers burned
Meaning rejoice! she comes with the warm dawn returned!
BONUS: read the first syllable of each line. Would you?
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
**** me, ***** beasts!
Ravage my mountains
And drain them
—a million mosquitoes on my skin;

Burn me, wooden hearts!
Watch me as I am consumed
By toxic fire
—a million ashes in my eyes;

Choke me, my children!
Rob me of the air of my lungs
With your stranglehold
—a million claws on my neck;

And when you are done
And tired from your *******
I shall cover you in the darkness of your making
And you—
Like a forgotten dream
—shall perish.
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
when i run
i imagine an airport
and you at the opposite end with open arms
and me running towards you
longing for your embrace

when i squat
i imagine a burning house
a heavy wooden column on my shoulders
and you between my legs
your life being mine to save

when i do pull-ups
i imagine a steep cliff
and your face meeting mine
drawing closer, closer, closer
at my every ascent

when i deadlift
i imagine you trapped
underneath the belly of a car
with you looking for me to lift the trunk
and allow space for your escape

when i bench press
i imagine myself (this time) trapped
underneath the belly of a car
with me pushing the car above
to be able to return to your company

when i do curls
i imagine you a mile away
a rope attached to your hips
and with each tug i repeat
you grow closer by a couple of feet

when i shoulder press**
i imagine a promise of a good shoulder rub
courtesy of your hands
once i squeeze out those

and when my spirit is spent
and exhaustion takes over imagination,
i shall revel in the endorphins pulsating through my veins
and pay gratitude
to my iron muse,
my unseen lover.
Though, admittedly, you can be a distraction sometimes.
9.4k · Apr 2014
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
tiny glowing squares
penetrate my retinas
and spike into my brain
quick-fix pleasure migraine
[a drug, almost]
six-inch screen turned shrine
temple television:
be my proxy
digital aura glow
comfort and sedate me:
tell me i'm beautiful
tell me i'm right
tell me you love me
tell me you'll never leave my side
it's tempting to think modern technology can replace the warmth of human love and compassion.  but it can't.
8.2k · Apr 2014
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
I. the apparition

i don't fear death,
i fear never being born;
i fear not my last breath,
but all the breaths in between;
how do i know i'm alive?

II. the left foot

for what purpose is the sun without its light?
for what use are eyes without their sight?
for what good is a left foot without the right?
and for what joy is a string without its kite?
will i ever be complete?

III. father

as branches grow to the shape of their roots,
as vermillion bloodies every spring with a drop:
could i escape original sin?
could i become a better man--
could i become my own man?

IV. aneurysm

would lightning dare blaze up a tree
that has yet to bear fruit?
would the gods dare strike down an artist
with a painting unfinished?
fate is neither cruel nor fair.
5.2k · May 2014
Noli Me Praehendo
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
Sprawl of the nazarene toothslayer,
Nucleotide bombast explosion;
***** of the eftsoon soothsayer,
Pyramid galaxies implosion:
Breathing quintuplicating matrix
Somersault to ceaseless meiosis,
Goldbeating phlanx initiatrix:
Amphimixis apotheosis.
Lifen gyrovagues aerolitic:
And fixate Atlas telescopic!
i am the eggplant whisperer.
5.1k · May 2014
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
trance of the cool breeze
dance of the  palm trees
you can
catch us
or maybe
the late
cocktails and listening
to the whistles of purple orchids
you can meet us by the golden shore
on sands that can't wait to get into your
toes and tell old stories about heroes
and  beautiful  women of  the land
who had hips that could rock the
molten lava out of mauna kea
you can enjoy the moment with us
leave your  worries and  your cameras
and lose yourself to the gentle swing of your
hammock and to the wishful kissing of the ocean
and to  the warm  blackness  that sings you to
sleep  to good vibrations that radiate out of
the strumming of my thumb that lullabies
the little brown child i carry in my arms
who the world named ukulele
"Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling, so it goes some things are meant to be"
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
jokes, no limits
everybody needs to laugh, to dream
so let's rush and get away
spend the weekend with vampires
extroverts not needed

just need a friend to get by
(or i'd probably go insane)
read, write, listen with me
don't think i don't care about you:
of all the somethings and someones,
nothing compares to this, to you
first letter of each line spells the name.
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
I have a huge ****
But I don't go around
Telling everyone about it.
"i'm cocky, alright."
3.7k · May 2014
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
Under dark stars and the chill of desert night
they twist and turn in their bed, restless;
their voices crying out—
help me, listen to me, love me
and I do.

And so I sew their tears and worries into the web of my skin
and carry them along with me as I go,

Because I am the dreamcatcher—
who takes nightmares and trades them for dreams,
who breathes in burden and




who seals sorrow within the strings and feathers of his soul
until they disappear at the dawn.

And I weave, weave, weave a web—
until my strings and feathers are heavy
with their doubt, shame, and misery.

And with a sigh, those voices are hushed, quiet like earth;
they travel through the wind, and float to the stars.
who am i, and who do i live for?
3.7k · Apr 2014
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
in the dead of night
i come alive.
the sun is my lover but the moon is my mistress.
2.1k · Jul 2014
Kurt Kanawa Jul 2014
You are the itch I can't ever scratch,
you trickle and ***** my thoughts
like sandpaper to a match,

latching onto the roots of my head,
you are the one stalking my thinking space
in and between the hours I lay on my bed,

and I tell myself that you're nothing to me,
a dusty web on the corner of my mind,
you are, I tell myself, nothing to me,

that you are the vexing fly I can't catch,
and I tell myself you are nothing to me,
nothing but the itch I can't ever scratch,
1.9k · May 2014
i'm fine
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
sweaty palms
legs made of wood
my mouth agape
but no words
so i nod
yeah, i'm okay
twitchy fingers
brain made of static
my eyes restless
blinking wildly
i'm alright, i promise
clenched toes
skin made of steel
my heart resting
on a bowl of nails
i'm fine
my ribs are shaking but
i'm fine
my ears are ringing but
i'm fine
my bones are breaking but
im fine
i'm fine

(but maybe
if you'd ask me
one more time...)
why do we insist on being ''alright'' all the time?
1.8k · Apr 2014
the inquisition
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
spread my rips apart
like a treasure chest
circumsize my heart
and with water bless'd
baptize me to hell
{ never a heaven to sell }
"heretic!" (2/3)
1.7k · Apr 2014
To Zeus (Salmoneus' Folly)
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
Your eyes are lightning—
piercing, penetrating—
with a gaze,
You turn me,
a mere mortal,
into stone.
Your presence is—

Your hair is brazen,
Your skin is gold.
Your body sacred oak.
the grace of a swan,
the heart of a lion,
the eyes of an eagle,
the mind of God—
is all Yours.

the sun has half Your warmth,
the sky a quarter of Your greatness,
and the stars an eighth of Your brilliance.

a huff of Your breath
could blow all the birds from the sky.
a flick of Your finger
could crush all the earth's mountains.
a crack of Your voice—
like thunder—
could make all men fall to their knees.

the world gravitates on Your inhalation
and shies away on Your exhale.
all of nature sings of Your glory,
for around You,
everything revolves.

on my chariot
riding on a bridge of brass,
torches in the air—
in imitation of Your celestial glory—
i wonder
if there be a place for me
on mount olympus—
by Your side.
i) the french call it 'la douleur exquise': the heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can never have.

1.6k · May 2014
On "Acne"
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
about as annoying
as that word
you keep
1.6k · Apr 2014
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
i have
a birthmark
shaped like
a cloud
but then again
  is shaped
     like a
My actual birthmark on my left forearm is exactly in the shape of the poem.
1.5k · Apr 2014
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
this bed feels so cold
with only
one body

this body feels so old
with only
one heart

this heart feels sick,
so ill
with emptiness
and regret

a thousand thoughts
falling like
shards of glass,

falling in a place
where time
does not pass,

how long
does it take a man
to die of loneliness?

to die of longing
to be truly loved
even just once

even if it be
just for a second
or two,

just to hold on
to something
and true,

to hold on
to a heart
other than
my own,

to melt a heart
made of
and stone.

how long
does it take a man
to die of loneliness?

a lifetime,
it seems.
1.3k · Jun 2016
Tribute to Walt Whitman
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2016
there was never any more of you than there is now,
nor any more of me than there is now,
if we shall be heaven, let us be heaven now,
if we shall be heathens, let us be heathens now,
for you are the south of yesterday
and the north of tomorrow
for i am the west of nothing
and the east of infinity
let us love where we cross
and if we shall cross, let us cross now
and if we shall cross only once
i will make east kiss west
and i will let south kiss north
until we become infinitesimally small
towards nospace and notime
i unbecoming i
you unbecoming you
us becoming from two
infinite at the single point now
at the single moment now
where we are nothing but now
“There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now;
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.”
--Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
1.3k · May 2014
we are
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
slit wrists
damp pillows
lover's eyes
vacant hearts
empty plates
twin beds
chinese temples
wooden idols
dusty windowsills
rap verses
closed curtains
angry candles
calloused hands
unopened letters
unsent texts
dry pens
spare change
crusty nails
dusty books
speeding tickets
broken crayons
black mascara
and more

we're alike
we're not

but we each always have
a story
to tell
an ode to everyone on this site. thank you, congratulations, condolences, my apologies.
1.2k · Apr 2014
who let the dogs out
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
the moment you unlocked
your bra straps
was the moment you unleashed
the hounds of hell
rabid, savage,
salivating through their teeth
roaring, moaning
for you
50 shades of jesse.
1.2k · Jun 2014
Art Luncheon
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2014
Dance can't keep still;
she never could.

Music, perhaps the oldest of them all,
is the gracious host:
a voice all recognize.

Acting has a love/hate relationship
with everyone in the room
including himself.

Pottery daydreams
of ancient glory.
(Fashion hasn't got the time for that.)

Architecture and Sculpture
compare dresses.

Cooking tries to decode
the recipe for dessert.

Painting and Drawing
soak up the garden's view,
while Writing goes around
asking what everyone's up to.

Photography stops
and stares for a while.

Video voyeurs the place,
much to Love's embarrassment.

Lastly, we have Poetry:
the lovechild of all the Arts.
He is amazed by the shape of his hands
and spends his time drawing shadows
and chasing cars.
"All art is quite useless."
1.2k · Apr 2014
Come, Lord Jesus, Come!
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
Dear Lord, I am here on my knees, crying,
For I have strayed and my faith is dying;
Holy Shepard, guide me back to God's route;
Make me pure and cleanse me as I cry out:
           Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Lord, I undress my sinful soul to you;
I bare it all, everything's in your view;
And I feel your merciful eyes on me,
I get closer to you and say with glee:
           Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Dear Lord, I can feel your holy presence;
In your embrace, I can taste your essense;
I can feel your passion, your fire, your heat;
And on this night I joyfully repeat:
           Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Lord, I worship your body and kiss your feet;
Our hearts come together and share one beat;
You opened me and entered me with love,
And to this blessed act I shout up above:
           Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Dear Lord, you cleanse me and ****** out my sin!
You penetrate my soul and place God in!
You reach to the darkest regions of me,
And instill the comfort of Christianity:
           Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Lord, you erase all my mistakes and woes;
I can feel your power from my head to toes;
Like a white horse, you are pure and perfect;
As you work your miracle, I loudly inject:
           Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Dear Lord, you release me from damnation,
And pour on me your holy salvation,
And I am again innocent and gay;
And as you depart, I thank you and say:
           Come, Lord Jesus, Come!
if there's a hell, i'd be in it.

Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
underneath the blue ocean,
deep in god's eternal gaze,
inside a woman's emotion,
wandering the evergreen maze,

between a bird's beak and feather,
behind the ancient cellar door,
through seams of velvet and leather,
swimming the seas of salvador,

in the taste of honey sweet,
across the valleys of a face,
on the bottom of a lady's feet,
dancing on the clouds with grace,

beautiful worlds in beautiful words,
my true heart's pleasure,
beautiful worlds in beautiful words,
my true mind's treasure.
using all the words i think sound nice.
1.1k · Apr 2014
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
will i be noticed
like a single note removed
from the melody of a song?

or will i be faceless
like a single blade of grass
in god's backyard lawn?

will i be missed
like a missing tooth?

or will i be forgotten
like a plaything from youth?

only time will tell.
memento mori.
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
don't let them get close
little deaths that leech and gnaw
until I am bone
how much longer?
1.1k · Jun 2014
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2014
pearls of sweat swell on bodies golden
at the dancing heart of pagan Rome;
orgastic stares and touches molten
light the synesthesia pleasuredome.

the gods eat diamonds from the grapevine
while virgins undress their silken shame;
red-faces boast as blood turns to wine:
tonight roam ***** tongues without name.

nymphs hold cornucopia spirits high;
they all hover inches from the ground,
spraying the mob to dew ev'ry eye;
endless voices converge to one sound.

ambrosia, the food of the divine,
is nothing but mortal invention:
to think of pleasure is to make it mine,
all of us in bubbled imagination.
"The mere fact of having published a book of second-rate sonnets makes a man quite irresistible. He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realize..."
1.1k · May 2014
Opiate of the Masses
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
Get high on GOD
said the poster
NOT on drugs.
I never knew the difference.
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2014
climb out of the womb and be born
watch your limbs and fingers grow
let Them manufacture your soul
memorize and become a number

watch your limbs and fingers grow
set the neighborhood on fire
memorize and become a number
stare at the chains on your ankles

set the neighborhood on fire
rally your gods and your lovers
stare at the chains of your ankles
break free, run away

rally your gods and your lovers
let them manufacture your soul
break free, runaway
climb out of the womb and be born
there's a teenage riot in all of us.
1.0k · Jun 2014
The Never-Ending Poem
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2014
i wonder
if there existed
a combination of words
that i could say
to push all your buttons
to dig into your brain
to shiver your veins
to hold onto your soul
that in the end
would make you love me

but perhaps
it is not a word or a phrase
not a line nor a page
but a never-ending poem
that demands not just to be sung
but lived out
“Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.”
962 · May 2014
Seven Deadly Sins
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
you marvel at your beautiful reflection,
but then remember the undeserving *******
who stole
your third mistress.
so you rob a hardware store
and gouge his eyes out with a screwdriver
and watch him bleed to death
while snacking on a bag of Cheetos.

you're too lazy
to pick up the crumbs.

(in order)
943 · Apr 2014
fag, they called him
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
he reads the bible
over and over again
to see if god
still loves him

as if he chose to be this way
as if he chose to be exiled
and shamed and crucified
for a thing they call sin

and he hides in bathrooms
and eats lunch alone
he lives in a house
but never feels at home

he reads the bible
over and over again
to see if god
still loves him
It gets better.
941 · May 2014
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
step 1:
random-add everyone you see
without liking any of their poetry
to get follow-backs for free

step 2:
make your poem trendy
usually about love
heartbreak, loneliness,
lust, or whatever has the most hashtags these days

step 3:
speaking of hashtags
make sure to sprinkle your poem
with as much hashtags as possible
(don't even think about if they're related
or not)
#love #trending #anoerxia
#*** #death #zucchini

step 4:
if you're running out of ideas
grab something mildly poetic from a song
shake it up a little
and trim it down to about ten words

step 5:
don't forget to make your poem short
because people don't have the attention span
to complete anything these da

step 6:
watch the view numbers come rolling in
and count them like money

you win *nothing.
since when did poetry become a popularity contest? / all resemblances to real people are entirely coincidental, no offense intended.
885 · Jun 2016
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2016
when i loved you
i loved all of humanity

when you killed me,
you killed all of humanity
841 · Apr 2014
you call her poetry, poetry
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
you tell her
her eyes
are deep, reflective pools,
mesmerizing, you say

you compare her
to an angel,
and you call her the sun
which outshines all the other stars

you say
she is the sea
she is the sky
the stars, the moon,
and a million other things

you call her poetry, poetry

and she will love you for it
unbeknownst to her
that your words are not your own
but the words of every poet
who has ever loved
just sick of clichés.
834 · Jun 2014
woe to the happy poet
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2014
woe to the happy poet
for soon
he shall find his well of inspiration dry
because one can write about
sunshine smiles and blue butterflies
for only so long

let us cheer then
for the lonely
for the heartbroken
for the misunderstood

they fester in unrequited love:
they love the world
but the world does not love them back
and they spend the rest of their days
grieving about it
in the prettiest words
825 · Apr 2014
curiouser and curiouser
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
i fall into you, backwards,
spinning like a pulsar
in a spiral of ecstasy

i fall into you, my black hole,
and i feel light years tall:
a galactic river of emotion

your gravity pulls me to your mouth
and escape becomes impossible
but it doesn't matter:
escape was never my intention
Down the rabbit hole...of space.
789 · May 2014
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
These hands of mine are yours
You can do whatever you like:
I shall stand or kneel on all fours;
Move me to peace or move me to strike.

You can do whatever you like;
I am your guardian hound.
Move me to peace or move me to strike,
I shall do at your voice's sound.

I am your guardian hound
Who offers eternal loyalty;
I shall do at your voice's sound,
My queen, my royalty.

Who offers eternal loyalty?
I shall stand or kneel on all fours.
My queen, my royalty,
These hands of mine are yours.
my first pantoum yay
767 · Apr 2014
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
I was a blind man, foreigner to light,
Whose days were draped in black, immortal night;
Trapped helplessly alone in the dark void,
Dull as Death, I never lived, never joyed.

But then your soft, enchanting voice I heard,
And Color quickly blossomed from your word,
Painting roses red and deep oceans blue:
Clear as pure air, I see because of you.

And upon seeing your bright, hazel eyes,
Streaks of vivid color burst from the skies,
Flaring fuchsia, emerald, indigo:
Swift as wind, I entered sweet vertigo.

As we met, the colors grew more intense;
Light swelled in my heart: a crystalline lens.
Gone am I from the dark void I once knew;
Know that I live, I see to witness you.
760 · May 2014
Heat Death
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
too lazy
too hot
can't think

heat expands air
ballooning our heads
double in size

the sun peppers the ground
so we wouldn't taste our footprints
on our eggs on the sidewalk

they say - no, they scream - the end is near
i'm not sure about that but i think hell had a gas leak
or does god want to bake his people into fresh gingerbread?
god, it's hot in here.
754 · May 2014
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
fruit tastes better forbidden
i can't stop myself
i'm breaking all these promises
like a ******* animal
i'm writhing
a seizure of ***** pleasure
demons dance around my head
like flower girls
splaying the ground with sin
i'm a ******* animal
thoughts pulsing
a constant state of primal ******
controlling me
like a leash
dangling meat in front of my face
somebody purge me
exorcize me from this
and distill the evil
and cast the black water into the sea

i beg
for my
a man who renounces reason and acts on instinct is not man at all.
738 · May 2014
love is...
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
love is not perfect—
love is bending down and retying your shoe laces
over and over and over again

love is not peace—
love is the way screams and broken plates litter the floor
while heated lips crash in a passionate embrace

love is not forever—
love is the infinitesimal space between clasped wrinkled hands
of old lovers who have already seen everything beautiful in the world

love is not pretty—
love is rough
and violent,
but undeniably
at least, that's what i want love to be.
733 · Jun 2014
to be truly lonely
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2014
is not to be silent
but to have voices competing
drowning each other out
so that we only hear the words
coming out of our own mouths

it means not to be cold
but to be scorched with the frustration
of being misunderstood
and pushed away
watching as our bridges burn
before they have ever even been built

it means not the darkness
but the light, blinding light
of the stage we stand
where we must deliver our lines
and play our parts eternally
never to remove our masks

it means not to be broken
but not being able to break
even when we want to
always on the verge of crying
we let our eyes swell but never flow
pretending everything's fine

and as i look from eye to eye
i know that i am lonely but not alone
in this cageless prison
697 · Apr 2014
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
he sits in the corner
of his deserted mind
where not even he
wants to keep
himself company.
the smell of
broken dreams
pang the air.
he feels tired.
he feels wasted.
but most of all
he feels

                                                            ­           alone.

and all he wanted
was a sign
from someone
from anyone
just to know
that he wasn't
the only one
who felt this way.
691 · Aug 2014
Kurt Kanawa Aug 2014
Gasping lips and swimming fingers,
Shadows dance on an ocean of skin
While above, an electric air lingers:
The smell of *** and sweat and sin;
They crash like violent waves to the shore,
Through themselves and into the other,
Caresses that echo, kisses that beg more,
A wild embrace, flesh tearing flesh asunder,
Thunder swelling up, grey clouds erupting,
Lightning spiking the sea between the two,
A final, silencing gasp

                                  pinnacles the storm's wrath.
As rain divide, the tumultuous sky corrupting
Breaking down while the sun breaks anew:
A stairway of light illuminates heaven's path
inspired by that poem about divine swans and helpless mortals.
663 · Mar 2016
Kurt Kanawa Mar 2016
for every thought of you
i stole a kindling star
from the night sky
to keep the thought warm

until the moon
shattered shivering
from the starless cold

i saw my thieving hands
glittered with the heavens

they were not a galaxy of you
but a constellation of me
654 · Jun 2014
how to destroy an angel
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2014
capture his laugh in a cave and let it echo

fish out the starry oceans from his eyes

call love a placebo

let all the moonlight shoot out of his fingers and toes

carve the gold out of his heart

bleach the butterflies in your gut

don't smile

don't think about his smile

let silence devour you both

let entropy rip you apart

get used to the cold

wait for the next big bang
648 · Apr 2014
the afterlove
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
now that i'm floating away
from the one i love
i find it harder to breathe
from up above

now my honey
tastes like diluted tea
and my *******
barely tingle me

now my heart
rarely thumps or skips
and i feel nothing
on these lonely lips

now my blue roses
are fading to white
and my sunrise eyes
are dying with the night

now that you're gone
i can't
i won't say a thing
i want
i need you back
and all the life
that you bring
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
sleep like fat bears: eat and grunt and sleep through some meaningless life//fight like strong bears: laugh and cry and fight through your meaningful life. the choice is yours.
587 · May 2014
Kurt Kanawa May 2014
our lips, are raptors,
talons inter,twined in flight;
the sun, on the sea raptures
and beckons us with light;

we are beak,ed seraphim
entangled in a vic,ious embrace;
feverish blood rac,es and swims
within the snare, of our veins enlaced;

each caged in st,eel feathers,
spine grazing spine, eye slashing eye;
we, a comet tha,t rapidly withers,
conjoined icarus fall,ing from the sky

we will crash in,to electric waves,
flanked by cliffs made, of thunder;
on to our vi,olent graves,
we will tear, each,other asunder.
you are the life of me,
and you will be the death of me,
and when you pin me down with your eyes
i know that i wouldn't have it any other way
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