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"freely" poems
Your smile makes me smile, Your laugh makes me laugh, Your eyes are enchanting, You make my thoughts seem daft. Since the day I first laid eyes on you, My feelings grew and grew. In that first conversation my knees clicked and clacked, And those butterflies flipped and flapped. And as I spill these simple rhymes, My mind goes over time and time, Why didn't you ask me to dance, During that slow song of endless romance? I hope this doesn't seem to creepy. Please don't think my thoughts have flown too freely. Just know that what I speak is true, And that I have fallen deeply for you.
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Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 3:43 AM UTC
CRUSH
Your smile makes me smile, Your laugh makes me laugh, Your eyes are enchanting, You make my thoughts seem daft. Since the day I first laid eyes on you, My feelings grew and grew. In that first conversation my knees clicked and clacked, And those butterflies flipped and flapped. And as I spill these simple rhymes, My mind goes over time and time, Why didn't you ask me to dance, During that slow song of endless romance? I hope this doesn't seem to creepy. Please don't think my thoughts have flown too freely. Just know that what I speak is true, And that I have fallen deeply for you.
0
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 3:46 AM UTC
CRUSH
My beloved, tonight it is more than perfect, the zephyr winds sing so sweetly your name and the crystal stars shine like your earrings. As the White Mountains glint gracefully, and the wind speaks over our fingers, upon our balcony, let’s dance, my beloved. Now over the thousand streams and star crystals in the air, You can see our prayers fill up the milky rivers in the sky. Below the lights of Christmas, before the blue rivers of stars, let’s dance like the shadows and the circles of the moonlight. Now dreams rise over like the wind and shine so easily But time falls quickly, and worries fall away so slowly. So let the rage of your fears dance around and under your legs. For the world is falling asleep, calling for the colors of their dreams. So let the tresses of your hair fall freely, And the wind of your perfume Soak up the flames of your heart. Spinning like the starlight, tasting every feeling, Let the steel blue sky and its stars fall all around you. Dance wildly, my beloved, let's dance like the songbird who sings, let’s dance forever, until we wash into the skyline of our dreams.
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Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
Let's Dance
When we touch I feel the rush flowing through me like a force flowing freely I see her   the way she see's me hands never touch flesh but she's feeling me in ways I've never felt
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Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 11:26 PM UTC
Vibes
Never relent to reach your dreams never fall at the first fence be brave and fight on think everyone not your enemy Stand fast and never yield be strong for the time of deliverance be a child of the stars so vast with hard work and perseverance Go by the beat of the drum know that enlightenment is within you be as we, stride on freely for I truly believe that you can really do (Poem For Larna Kira Kourtis) By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
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Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
Hard Work And Perseverance
spark of life touches earth leaves crackle and explode into breath in deep romance, my lungs kiss smoke and Spirit expands within sinking and soaking through skin deep into my roots dripping into channels of rivers flowing freely to my brain crackling with neurons ever grasping dendritically to reach nutritious extrapolations stormy interpretations and interpolations crackling branches of white birch lightning
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Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
Spirit Smoke, an Ode to the Marijuana Spirit
I keep my feelings on a leash, locked in a cage like the perpetrators of crime. Sometimes I take them out for walks to test out their rarely used legs on the ground. Only too reel them back in, too scared to let them wander, wander towards those who let theirs loose freely, not caring where they step. For I have learned that this only leads to hurt. Stubbed toes on the curbsides called love. Failed attempts at crossing the crosswalk, into the depths of someones shallow, unforgiving arms. Not paying attention to the Stop sign right next to them. Over and over, I wish I would've noticed that sign sooner.. Before all the heartbreaks and fallen tears. And that is why the footwork of my heart, kept captive in the dark, is sleeping in silence for perhaps eternity
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Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 1:04 AM UTC
Footwork
In a playful vision sent Your ****** homologue Of amber shins and pale phalanges Weaves four-leaved clovers. In response, ***** spurs And protean winged descent To float into your kaleidoscopic star: Gliding, Freely falling, To rest in lace extremities. There in our bed of sensual feet, Sunflowers breath, Whose burnished rotating petals Gather me in wisps, Each spiral frond, Gyring Before death's voids Is drawn in purls. And in pleasures held, Cossetted in latticed limbs, A ***** lustrous rich embrace; Denuded and alive! And with abandon kissed:     Bony toes     Tendons     Deep arches     Shins     Ankles,     Sweetmeats,     Light and delicate. As here between pretty shins And fleshy silken feet Our ascent begins Rising, From low regions, To scale new night, And crown our heights. This lovers' leap into prismatic reproduction In the empty Cosmic wastes      In a web is caught! Where feet and toes inspire Continuity for pointed stars. As material possibilities collide The lust for life Is born in non-existence: So in our nest of feet, Mating in the game With heads thrown back, Of lust drink deeply we.
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Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
Kaleidoscopic Feet
it's very much easy to say that today is the day wherein you no longer have feelings that grows fonder for him— who you loved freely but indeed so genuinely. but your challenge is to look at his every edge and the way he laughs and smile without asking for a while if you still love him for real; you should then infer that you are now happier without him— to whom you gave your all, though from him you only got a downfall.
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Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 9:22 AM UTC
10 january 2019
From one thousand mountains the hawks flights are gone Soaring freely & thinking clearly through the clouds in the sky Not looking back persevering to fulfill the dreams The dreams aren't solely an illusion in the mind But a preview of future times For the reality in the hawks mind is dreams of happiness Clashing between difficulty & a paradox of what is seen & what is not seen What is believed has 20/20 vision A clear sight with no eyeballs But a driven mind with great visual Anticipating the future of success Feeling blessed and alleviating stress Persevering and passing all the tests What lies is the wind which is the past Securing things of desire at last Achievement is a good friend Resulting in a fulfilled end. . .
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Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
Connoisseur of Dreams
Your laughter Is my soul meal The smiles My giant lamps Your touch Arose me Driving me freely To a great gate of ecstasy Your love My heart music Playing me tune Bet I could dance all day Some words ve weave thee But yet, Seems not enough Cos each day Makes a better smile Your smile That lit up mine
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Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
Your Smile
#*Nightbird perches high beneath the shooting stars that dapple the bouquet     of sleepless peace ... his soft downy breast           has lent breath to the sweet April afterglow      heaving with song The mystical feathered troubadour's      swooning echo A melodic twilight serenade conjures a moonstruck metamorphosis, sprouting magical wings of flight;* rousing *a lonely heart's esprit      to fly away unfettered      in constellations of song How dare imaginings spilled from the big dipper enchant such an enrapturing magic spell? It's so far to fall from swinging on a star! It's so far beyond nearing crescent moon      when you wish upon a star   Thereupon struck by a bewitching bolt of starlight; Dropping asudden as a shooting-star!     Rolling like trailing thunder;         tucked and tumbling ―              somersaulting,            celestial rumbling blossoming with an unearthly joy A nascent winged heart splayed bare, soars upon cresting wind waves;     dreaming of that shapeless             w h o  o  o  o  s h ―          gathering beneath         ~ uplifting wings ~   Suddenly ― gliding freely,        winging gracefully   upon wafting star drift glitter; lilting lightly upon the arising cadence of nightingale's melodious fluted song Nightingale sings sweet April perfume beneath the star shed lamplight twinkle ... and it makes no difference if it's only a dream     if my heart had wings* imagined by:   Jesse Stillwater
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Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
... if my heart had wings
#*Nightbird perches high beneath the shooting stars that dapple the bouquet     of sleepless peace ... his soft downy breast           has lent breath to the sweet April afterglow      heaving with song The mystical feathered troubadour's      swooning echo A melodic twilight serenade conjures a moonstruck metamorphosis, sprouting magical wings of flight;* rousing *a lonely heart's esprit      to fly away unfettered      in constellations of song How dare imaginings spilled from the big dipper enchant such an enrapturing magic spell? It's so far to fall from swinging on a star! It's so far beyond nearing crescent moon      when you wish upon a star   Thereupon struck by a bewitching bolt of starlight; Dropping asudden as a shooting-star!     Rolling like trailing thunder;         tucked and tumbling ―              somersaulting,            celestial rumbling blossoming with an unearthly joy A nascent winged heart splayed bare, soars upon cresting wind waves;     dreaming of that shapeless             w h o  o  o  o  s h ―          gathering beneath         ~ uplifting wings ~   Suddenly ― gliding freely,        winging gracefully   upon wafting star drift glitter; lilting lightly upon the arising cadence of nightingale's melodious fluted song Nightingale sings sweet April perfume beneath the star shed lamplight twinkle ... and it makes no difference if it's only a dream     if my heart had wings* imagined by:   Jesse Stillwater
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44
I come to life when you touch me Fluent & continuous. You've unzipped my lips and tossed them to the side. I've never fallen & been caught so freely. I've never paid attention to how flat the world really was. A jagged peninsula Eloped in oceans embrace Curved in explosion. Sometimes it feels like I am Drowning. I've never paid attention to how flat the world really is Chipped off, covered by you falling deeper into you
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Jun 11, 2022
Jun 11, 2022 at 6:38 PM UTC
Flat Blue Sheets
We did not come here on the orders of others We came freely, our own choice, blown by the soft winds scattered o'er many a mile Landed upon Flanders Fields and rested a while Then death came, disturbed the earth Destruction hit the ground in which we slept so quietly Awoke us from our slumber sweet To witness tragedies and defeat Now we are risen and in our place beneath lie men and boys of courage, strong and true Who fought valiantly but now lay slain Our gentle roots entwine around their bodies that remain Each dawn we wake for them and face the summer sun At night our gaze doth meet moon We stand tall and proud and dip our heads And honour them that lie beneath with our petals red
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 7:16 AM UTC
POPPIES RED
My pen is a wand. It can write a curse or a powerful charm. My pen is a mirror. It can show you a monster or a beautiful figure. My pen is a key. It can free you from a trapped door or it can lock you inside that door until the oxgen runs out and you can't breath. My pen is a weapon.  It will fight righteous battles or make a gruesome dissection. My pen is a balancing scale. It is a balancing scale because it tilts when the yin & yang of my being begins to out weight one other. Nothing is safe from my pen if i choose it not to be, my pen writes freely without filters or censorship. My pen is a ship in the sea unable to maintain equilibrium set on a course to land. One day it will stay still, but on that day my pen will run out of ink.
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 5:13 AM UTC
My Pen
You say I'm childish For freely professing All the words that are Etched on my heart As if I had any Other choice but to Be buried by them
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Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 3:40 PM UTC
Childish
She was a wild flower In a skyscraper forest Poking her sun fire petals out Through cracks in the cement Climbing the buildings until she could Freely drink the sunlight And oh how she grew Like a wildflower In a skyscraper forest
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Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 3:38 AM UTC
Wildflower
Oh, they a strange brew. Almost like a union crew. One minute disagreeing. Then the next tight as can be. In house fighting that makes you question their love. Just to see them turn around and show it. Siblings, only they can explain it. Getting to the truth is hard as can be. Unless you have a young one. Who will tell on everyone? Siblings, only they understand that connection. Parents know their bond. That if attacked by others. They gather together to bare arms. And it's not with any guns. The world of a child is simply hard to explain. The way they wants to go outside and play in the rain. And avoid coats in the snow. And when questioned about , how things got broken? Then between them nobody really know. Siblings, we all been there before. Unless you're the only child. Then you just don't know. This love bond stays between some as they simply begins to grow older. Their motto , somethings parents don't need to know. Unless it's something vital. Then the protection goes out the door. Yes, there'll be fights. And lectures from parents. There's be wearing of clothes that belonged to others. Who hadn't had the chance to wear them before? And give you the option of taking them off freely. Before they assist you to the floor. Yes, siblings. They hard to explain. Counselors advice isn't asked or requested for. Not by parents that know about these things. Books wasn't going to be their teacher. Because books didn't raise them in anyway. That this new generational thing. Where judges and courts thinks social workers needs to be involved? The best instructions is in the book about the teaching of God. Where we see the same conflicts? Siblings, there's no one better to have than a sister or brother. Who had a mother or father to witness it all?
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Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
Siblings
Oh, they a strange brew. Almost like a union crew. One minute disagreeing. Then the next tight as can be. In house fighting that makes you question their love. Just to see them turn around and show it. Siblings, only they can explain it. Getting to the truth is hard as can be. Unless you have a young one. Who will tell on everyone? Siblings, only they understand that connection. Parents know their bond. That if attacked by others. They gather together to bare arms. And it's not with any guns. The world of a child is simply hard to explain. The way they wants to go outside and play in the rain. And avoid coats in the snow. And when questioned about , how things got broken? Then between them nobody really know. Siblings, we all been there before. Unless you're the only child. Then you just don't know. This love bond stays between some as they simply begins to grow older. Their motto , somethings parents don't need to know. Unless it's something vital. Then the protection goes out the door. Yes, there'll be fights. And lectures from parents. There's be wearing of clothes that belonged to others. Who hadn't had the chance to wear them before? And give you the option of taking them off freely. Before they assist you to the floor. Yes, siblings. They hard to explain. Counselors advice isn't asked or requested for. Not by parents that know about these things. Books wasn't going to be their teacher. Because books didn't raise them in anyway. That this new generational thing. Where judges and courts thinks social workers needs to be involved? The best instructions is in the book about the teaching of God. Where we see the same conflicts? Siblings, there's no one better to have than a sister or brother. Who had a mother or father to witness it all?
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45
They still exist; Both literally and metaphorically. Little girls *** trafficked, Boys slave in sweat shops, Buissnessman works a 60 hour week. Everyone's got their own chains. Some we put on freely, Some are ****** upon us, like maturity on an orphaned child --Some are cut into our wrists. With every lie, With every curse, With every slander, Pain built up creates inside these fine little links; Alone they are weak, but together UNBREAKABLE 27 million slaves in the world But that's just an estimate. When we look inwards We see so. many. more.
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
Slave
I feel most at home When I am beside you. I am able to breathe freely & abundantly. You speak kindly to my soul, & nurture the points of direction Which I grow. My sanctuary of peace, My birds eye view of serenity. I feel most at home When I am in view of your garden. Offering the utmost Of warmth & affection. Make no mistake, I am not there to simply pass time Nor am I there out of the convenience Of you. Being around you takes me to another world & I am glad to share in the experience Of you. I am in awe at how you transform me Into a moth, in terms of light. I’ll follow you anywhere
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Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 1:00 PM UTC
Anywhere there's Peace
Oh, they a strange brew. Almost like a union crew. One minute disagreeing. Then the next tight  as can be. In house fighting that makes you question their love. Just to see them turn around and show it. Siblings, only they can explain it. Getting to the truth is hard as can be. Unless you have a young one. Who will tell on everyone? Siblings, only they understand that connection. Parents know their bond. That if attacked by others. They gather together to bare arms. And it's not with any guns. The world of a child is simply hard to explain. The way they wants to go outside and play in the rain. And avoid coats in the snow. And when questioned about , how things got broken? Then between them nobody really know. Siblings, we all been there before. Unless you're the only child. Then you just don't know. This love bond stays between some as they simply begins to grow older. There motto , something parents don't need to know. Unless it's something vital. Then the protection goes out the door. Yes, there'll be fights. And lectures from parents. There'll be wearing of clothes that belonged to others. Who hadn't had the chance to wear them before? And give you the option of taking them out freely. Before they assist you to the floor. Yes, siblings. They hard to explain. Counselors advice isn't asked or requested for. Not by parents that know about these things. Books wasn't going to be their teacher. Because books didn't raise them in anyway. That this new generational thing. Where judges and courts thinks social workers needs to be involved? The best instructions is in the book about the teaching of God. Where we see the same conflicts? Siblings, there's no one better to have than a sister or brother. Who had a mother or father to witness it all?
0
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
Siblings
Oh, they a strange brew. Almost like a union crew. One minute disagreeing. Then the next tight  as can be. In house fighting that makes you question their love. Just to see them turn around and show it. Siblings, only they can explain it. Getting to the truth is hard as can be. Unless you have a young one. Who will tell on everyone? Siblings, only they understand that connection. Parents know their bond. That if attacked by others. They gather together to bare arms. And it's not with any guns. The world of a child is simply hard to explain. The way they wants to go outside and play in the rain. And avoid coats in the snow. And when questioned about , how things got broken? Then between them nobody really know. Siblings, we all been there before. Unless you're the only child. Then you just don't know. This love bond stays between some as they simply begins to grow older. There motto , something parents don't need to know. Unless it's something vital. Then the protection goes out the door. Yes, there'll be fights. And lectures from parents. There'll be wearing of clothes that belonged to others. Who hadn't had the chance to wear them before? And give you the option of taking them out freely. Before they assist you to the floor. Yes, siblings. They hard to explain. Counselors advice isn't asked or requested for. Not by parents that know about these things. Books wasn't going to be their teacher. Because books didn't raise them in anyway. That this new generational thing. Where judges and courts thinks social workers needs to be involved? The best instructions is in the book about the teaching of God. Where we see the same conflicts? Siblings, there's no one better to have than a sister or brother. Who had a mother or father to witness it all?
Continue reading...
45
Give and take, that’s how the world works You give what you can and accept what you believe you deserve All I have to give is love I give it freely I give and I give and I give There’s none left for myself I don’t deserve it I don’t see what others see I receive what others give, but I do not accept A failure is all I see An amalgamation of the shattered remnants of whom I was I want to accept the love of others I want to accept love for myself I can’t I don’t deserve it, I failed everyone
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
Failure
I hope it makes you feel better, my Love. Seeing my heart melting for you on the roaring fire… There is nothing that I could have done to change the way that this has ended, yet I would still happily melt to make you feel better. I would still burn to keep you warm. Did you notice the way the fire made my heart glow in the orange yellow flames? I did. I also noticed the way that it cried out, feeling lost and empty and broken in its final moments of misery. And I heard how you cried out when you realized that there was nothing left but to set fire to my lonely love. I cannot explain why I have chosen this route. I cannot tell you the reasons behind choosing to burn, and at the same time, scorch you with the melting remnants of my heart. The only thing that I can say is that I am sorry. Sorry for the pain and the burns and the fire, and the need for them all. And that I am left, burning with you, just the same. And in those cooling embers, there lies the ashes of me that I will never regain, for I have given it to you. It was the shattered pieces of my Technicolor heart that filled the barren canvas with the imperfections of my love. It was the only thing which has ever made any sense and at the same time, no sense at all. It was all that I ever hoped to be mixed with all the doubt of who I was never worthy of being. It was yours, and I gave it freely to you. It should not make me sad that you have chosen to put it to rest in the funeral pyre, yet I feel the want to cry. Sleep sweet, my Love, knowing that I would throw my heart on the fire a thousand times over for you to remain un-singed by its heat. I only wish that I could have.
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Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
My Technicolor Heart, Afire...
I hope it makes you feel better, my Love. Seeing my heart melting for you on the roaring fire… There is nothing that I could have done to change the way that this has ended, yet I would still happily melt to make you feel better. I would still burn to keep you warm. Did you notice the way the fire made my heart glow in the orange yellow flames? I did. I also noticed the way that it cried out, feeling lost and empty and broken in its final moments of misery. And I heard how you cried out when you realized that there was nothing left but to set fire to my lonely love. I cannot explain why I have chosen this route. I cannot tell you the reasons behind choosing to burn, and at the same time, scorch you with the melting remnants of my heart. The only thing that I can say is that I am sorry. Sorry for the pain and the burns and the fire, and the need for them all. And that I am left, burning with you, just the same. And in those cooling embers, there lies the ashes of me that I will never regain, for I have given it to you. It was the shattered pieces of my Technicolor heart that filled the barren canvas with the imperfections of my love. It was the only thing which has ever made any sense and at the same time, no sense at all. It was all that I ever hoped to be mixed with all the doubt of who I was never worthy of being. It was yours, and I gave it freely to you. It should not make me sad that you have chosen to put it to rest in the funeral pyre, yet I feel the want to cry. Sleep sweet, my Love, knowing that I would throw my heart on the fire a thousand times over for you to remain un-singed by its heat. I only wish that I could have.
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8
passion thirst hurt ephemeral physical cold heat hunger water walking brutally real physical skin colors words spontaneous devious planned desire desired, physical concrete parchment thin muscled strong catch a caught physical making creating cresting cannot live without physical electric shocking eclectic varied realized why? stop here? eyed fingered tongue tasted, ear sensual dreamt famous buried tragic comedic gaming played unsafe at any speed languorous fire immolating physical chest pains, incurable incumbent to possess otherwise, death fingernails poking knuckle kissing lips wetting blood exchanging oh yeah physical foreign native young old permanently temporary infinitely finite definitely unending nowhere no expression dying dreams best better agonizing agonizing unrequited offer everything receive shoulder colder than hell defensive offensive cape laid walk on me chivalry until we hold each others fingers knotted until I stroke your hair unexpectedly, until we agree to hell with all the rest until we say the say the same thing simultaneously until we come together when we have satisfied each and every one of the above, freely confess know nothing of love but the picayune details that make us greater greater than greater, greatest, then and only then we, might have a few clues
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Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 9:47 AM UTC
revised riposte: know nothing of "love"