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4d
Memory is the afterlife of existing. In the dream, my dream is a dog made of blood. I’m sorry that you cannot sleep. My mouth is a bone writing to a bitemark. Bees from your childhood are trapped in bees. There’s no god and no way for god to know.
Barton D Smock
Written by
Barton D Smock  48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)   
  117
   Emma
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