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Sep 2017
******* air little piglet suckling sweet mother's milk in the full haze of infancy.
Broken (crushed) skull litanies of wailing prayer unto fickle gods.
Chase out the storm through the open door in preparation for winter....
In January there is no sky.Β Β Only a blanket of purple, gray, and silver.
Written by
Kane Smith  31/M/MS
(31/M/MS)   
196
 
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