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diplomats

Listening to peculiar strangers gather in the eavestrough; Coddling the malleable bloom of rooted trees An immigrant to prosperity cradled by Mercutio. -Our revels now are ended. These our actors. Burnt sand swallows the lighthouse where the savage hang, melancholy-tea and a pulp-fiction spread dismal characters, behaving bourgeois -Gather in the eavestrough
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Written by
moe
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Written by
moe
Published
Dec 8, 2012
Lines·Words
8·52
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