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#placenta
LIGHT, dreary light, on a plaza, surrounded by unexpectedly hopeless hope. And you, stubborn man. This plaza is a placenta. And we are the fetus that can never get out of there. The maturity of pregnancy, and we are not ever dare to actually be born. If our mother dies, dry the umbilical cord.
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Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 12:35 AM UTC
Atrium of a Plaza