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Dec 2012
I was finally and absolutely safe. I, a gem in my father's eye, and he, born before my sight. In the house, the streets, indefinite ringing, and the almost-departure of the grand-papy pat on the back, a  gesture entirely too simple for me. I just wanted to hug him and hear him speak. Even all I disagreed with spawned the most paternal anger in me, only days after the vasectomy. He had we, my sister and three other children but anyways two got off free, so it's just my sister with me, and some heavy things where all on us. And someone lifted a few off at the arriving terminal, at the carousel. Acclimated to the pekin breeze we the most moral-est sponge we'd ever seen take some space in his daddy brain. Wosh...wooosh...whehw, whewh and my dad's anew. Some startling thing he knows whens he looks down the road, deep down into the road, because here you are so sweet when you speak.
Byron
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Byron
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