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sara Jul 2018
I'll draw the line, it's too far gone,
predictable like dot to dot
to map these problems out again.
Our criminality self-made,

insufferable, ill-timed, insane;
all but an ounce of pride to gain.
Though, guaranteed to cut a loss,
we'll kid ourselves it's worth the cost

for half a gram of happiness,
with half of that stuck on the desk.
We've only got a quarter left:
it's all to play for, do your best.
Be warned x
Matt Lancaster Sep 2018
i pull my passion apart
until all my selves
are looking at each other bewildered
woozy in love with one another
and no energy to fight

i set each
up in a room to wait
together they get anxious

apart I grow anxious
in so many pieces
can’t each survive?

i walk into each room with a revolver
and only one bullet
i hand the gun to god
he puts it back in my hands and says
‘i am the bullet’
Sam Hammond Aug 2018
We were destined to fail.
From the start we were done.
We were Russian Roulette
With six shells in the gun.
That's one shot for me
And for you there's one more,
And should we survive
There's a spare extra four.
Curtis Owens Aug 2018
I rue the day I lost faith in myself,
let negativity take over sober thought
and say to me my chances are shot,
to be content at a morose trot fowling maps of my life that strangers plot.

Is Life just a spinning gun? , a game of luck.
Revolving on, in endless loops leaving me stuck in the muck.
Waiting for my turn to tug the trigger as the steak gets bigger
and my goals and dreams are self-dammed,
the fires that burn them self-fanned.
My mind imposing dark bans on self-success as I tell myself “I’m a mess”

what would happen if I focused and give my best?
What would happen if before I play i open the magazine and abandon the bullet?
Would I do better if I wasn’t so worried I’d shoot myself?

If before I play i dare to prepare and tell myself I will win because the bullets gone and that negative voice binned.

I Think I could.
One day I hope you realize,
That he was just a boy,
Marriage was a word to him,
He juggled hearts like they were toys,
And it hurts, my God, it hurts to know,
His love with just a lie,
And how easily he left his family,
With a simple wave “good-bye”,
But the victory has been won, my dear,
Your suffering is not is vain,
For the day will come when you wake up,
No longer in constant pain,
Time will heal these wounds somehow,
Every bruise and every word,
And you’ll use this pain to help another,
As a beacon to their hope,
But I know that this brokenness,
Is not something you’ll soon forget,
But cowards like him will never win,
At games like Russian Roulette.
Jealousy is a loaded gun,
And you made each of their names
Bullets in my chamber.

The end of the barrel
Kisses me softly,
Between the eyes,
Where you used to.
And as you twirl them all round in a Russian Roulette
My finger quivers over the trigger.

Sweat makes it impossible to grip
And thinking back makes it
To think forward...
What next?

You cocked it,
The gun,
So I'm ready to go.
I think...

Until, you reach out and try to save me.
Your hand touching mine
Losens my grip on the gun,
My finger becomes limp and I come back to life as
Your promises disarm me,
Your reassurance unloads the gun and
The bullets become evanescent in your kiss.
Inspired by San Cisco's song Jealousy from the lyric "jealousy is like a loaded gun". Alongside past experiences...
zebra Feb 9
palace of lights caved
blooms through the body
like reality pitted against a comic book
not knowing where life came from
not knowing how it will end
food tubes or road ****

is creation substance-less?
24 carat nonsense,
or pure wisdom?
perhaps bad therapy
for lab animals
and store front dummies

monkeys shudder at needles
unless candied with a heroine syringe
chemistry a science of belligerence and euphoria
pleasure before despair
and than a sea of pain

and a ****;
impaling her

the lushly contoured female
a frictionless exchange of power
for ******* ecstatic death
as her eyes bob and flutter
like cascading echo's

my birth tarot card
**** of swords
her favorite when I push through her
like blood bubble gum
b l o o d b u b b a b u b b le g u m

a **** cathedral of lights flicker spit
guttural diphthong
like a vipers castanets
uterine fire bursts like an appendix bomb
her **** a zoo
******* z o o

i am peanuts worms and hay
her face a mask to hide behind
breath play
sibilant ****
specter or nightmares
shadows and villains aphrodiac

gagged and drugged
hot ***** bound
a big eyed ****
s l u t l o v e

*** cannibals turn me on
her ****** a goddess
a Russian roulette
for shtttty kisses
she shot me

cuckoo spit
k o cuck  k o  k o o
twizzles willie milk
in a drowning
moss draped moon orifice
under a shattered zodiac

wrapped in tentacles of night
she turns me on
Sam Hawkins Oct 2015
What's your take on walking?

My body serves my soul
and tells me how to go.

My heart, affixed -- aims to show.
These ways I’ve walked in my shoes and stockings.

I've looked to heaven’s stars, to daylit clouds,
when I've stepped out, or dropped my gaze
to track the ground.

Yes, it is true—whoever passed me by
could have taken offense and supposed
I lacked my confidence.

And ofttimes, I've strode out straight and true
as if toward a far mist horizon.

Any un-manifested future,
even peek-a-boo,
can be comprehended? 

I should doubt it.

And if I wished to address an occasional
in-the-dumps, lost-at-sea feeling,

I'd shut my eyes, and walk backwards --
owl-like, 360 swivel my head.

Backwards blind circumspection seemed worth a try --
Who am I? I'd story where I’d been.

In my most spontaneous of nature foot-trafficking,
in roulette walk; my spin of gun chamber click--
ant, spider, beetle, and the occasional sighing snail
must have fled my shadow shoe?

As slow drift clouds in a sky game would play
with the sun to hide—creatures had sought me out,
sung their farewells?  (it was an excellent day to die)

Let me tell it, as it had happened today,
and truth says how.

My feet, they had gotten to waltz-walking.
O how my body and soul
danced a-fancy free.

Love was brimming out of me; happiness
whispered her wordless name; and
my tongue tripped nonsensical.

So if, at last, you've kept up a pace with me
in sympathetic striding, then perhaps
you'd surmise:

there never can be a flat-footed walking me, abiding,
especially when I spout off with poem-talking.

Now, what’s your take on walking?
Kemy Sep 2018
*** with me is so amazing      
Hey, I’m just Paraphrasing      
However, I was listening to the artist, Rihanna singing this song      
As the song kept plugging along      
Not meaning to come on too strong      
With respect do not get me wrong      
I’ve often wondered, is *** of the body more powerful than *** of the mind      
And no, I do not have a feminist ax to grind      
I will choose my words on this topic and remain kind      
Well, at best that I can      
From my perspective related to this issue between woman and man      
Making love to the female body its ******, it’s pleasurable, and certainly it’s thrilling      
But once nature’s release has been prefilled      
The mind needs a dose of endorphins to be instilled      
Are you still with me on that concept      
I’m speaking for me who needs the combined effect
With someone capable of emotional grazing      
Blind dates, we talk about our passions or dreams      
Clothes still on, however, he gets what you mean      
Do we take this night one step farther      
We slept together      
Heated and passionate under silk covers, yet, he knew nothing about the weather      
We were definitely birds of a different feather      
His arms were not even that strong      
His brain got duller as the night prolonged
Sometimes is not all about trailblazing      
Computer Dating      
Keyboard translating      
Breathless words of debate      
Soulful elate      
No physical contact to rate      
But wait      
You can type on computer keys from sunrise to sunset      
If you cannot be bipartisan with words than you can’t articulate      
A break to give since we’ve just met      
Between you and me it’s now mental Russian Roulette      
Spinning my mind landing on red      
Keep your mouth closed as you lay in my bed      
Enticing words danced across my screen      
Pulling me in was all a squandered dream      
We’ll never again experience emotions under the covers      
****** of no analytical bonding from a distance lover      
Once again, a horse of another color 
In the midst of me praising you as our eyes are glazing      
One night stands      
First of all, you’re taking your life into your own hands      
No commands        
Sedated and scented juices mingling of its passion galore      
Lust filled desires and so much more      
No demands      
Talking on the go, and making no sense, well I be ****      
What a waste of a slam bam and thank you ma’am      
Mental *** on the brain I know it may sound insane      
But my God, it makes me rain      
Intellectual simulations have always been such a turn on      
Take me to task and then I’m far gone      
Rainbow coalitions      
I do not have any petitions      
Never in favor of anyone’s competitions      
Just me, my words, and I      
Reaching for that academic all time high      
Coming at you as I’m ******* with you      
The next morning, I would have told you a thing or two      
Something old or maybe something new      
It all depends on if I’ve pitied a fool      
Not my game, not in my arms      
Not fooled by undercover charms      
Capture my mind until the ringing of my alarm      
Wow, did we really just talk all night long      
Arms were very strong, your mind kept me warm while we discussed society’s storms      
One night stands      
Never with an intelligent man      
He needs a briefcase or a blueprint plan      
He could execute with his own mind      
On his own time      
Using his own dime      
Then he’s ready for my mind      
No prophylactics needed      
Once you gyrate my mind you’ve succeeded      
Feeding me words from the depths of your cerebral cortex to the powers that be      
Lightening my mind up like a Christmas tree      
Now you got me down on my knees      
Thanking you, as I please      
Was it good for you as it was for me
Mind now resting in a dreamy phase, body has now been thoroughly praised      
Here comes the aftermath of sweet melodies to conversations      
Moaning out all kinds of pronunciations      
French words with exclamations      
Giving me perceptual palpitations      
From the knowledge of head ministrations      
Climbing the psychological throne once again      
While whispering words in my ear as my mind adheres      
Once mental energy has been locked in      
Slow dancing, and then a thrusting rush as we begin      
Words of revelations      
Taking my mind beyond the constellations      
To the height of my glorious crown      
I’ve created, rested, and now the essence of my intellect is winding down      
Mental capacity has once again been meticulously interrogated      
Hearts of the minds now segregated  
Sweet words whispered to your male ego, minds blazing        
Perceptual notations moving inside of me      
Bending me over, as you lick up and down my womanly creed      
A passionate quick kiss as your mind sinks into my intellectual abyss      
From my mind to your fathom lips      
Seductively gyrating my hips      
Raising the nature of your hard ****      
Love and Hugs        
Soft tongue bathing your body, massage oil, and caressing rubs
Innovation comes out of great human ingenuity and very personal passions.

Megan Smith
Allen James Sep 2018
Ask me how I’m doing and I’ll make it sell,
Tell you all is well,
When all is hell,
Falling through the sky,
Ain't hit the ground yet,
Just me and God here playing Russian roulette,
The wage is set,
A bet’s a bet,
Final stages of rage but my mind won’t reset,
Mental vegan, seeking only the raw truth,
I got a residence in present tense,
And the future on mute ,
I could be wrong,
But at least I have the courage to face it,
My word is gold,
Yours is a fake *** bracelet,
Three steps to forgiveness,
But life ain’t a waltz,
It’s a dance with the devil,
And he leads till you’re lost,
You see I paid the cost and got nothing back,
But pages of thoughts and a midnight snack,
They call it "hell and back",
Ah the hell with that,
I’m burning for my sins,
No matter what the habitat,
Fully packed and ready to die,
I’m ditching this life like a runaway bride,
Too young to hide but never too old,
To wreak absolute havoc with the anger I hold ,
I’m as real as pain,
Yet far from a heathen,
Only reason I left heaven,
Was to make peace with my demons,
Problem is they just want to get even,
And now I'm barely breathing,
Barely sleeping at night,
So to answer your question,
No I ain't alright.
when someone insults you
it shortcircuits everything good
that happened that day
or week or year
it plays on a loop in your mind
igniting a roulette wheel of reaction
that might whirl out of control
so watch out *******
Al Aug 2018
Like the roulette
wheel & ball,

tell me lies and
my tears fall.
Dark Fjord Dec 2016
In the Eyesore of the moon, I was stuck
with my rocket in Alice's, escape,

the earth was just for awhile, and the moon frowned
I was stuck there in its crater

back in the past, every present moment, everyone else fled
back on earth is so tossed around
and still having more shots and blows to take.

    for a rat to race to kickin adrenilin
“a kick”  around corner of #mylife
*               * how I didn’t   ”click with you”
*               * didn’t   ”check you out”
*               * you didn’t   ”click with me”
*               * i didn’t do enough.   we went around
#through this way,
*               * this was the last thing.
*               * the last terrible thing. #famous,
*               * i was ever going to say.

This is the only life I get, and
Regretfully, I’m wasn’t in yours.

Our hearts beat but like ruffled drums;
beating before waves
who came to each day, needing just the present,
without past or future
but there the day ends and It drew its line.

In a clutch in a “click” I was
*               * a roulette game,
every day the Present said, would make me famous.

“for kicks” the last day of #mylife
*               * how I didn’t   ”click for you”
*               * didn’t   ”click”
*               * you didn’t   ”give me a kick”
*               * i didn’t do enough.   #through this way,
*               * this was the last thing.
*               * the last terrible thing. #famous,
*               * i was ever going to be.

This is the only One life and
Regretfully, it wasn’t in it to play "for kicks"
your game...

In a clutch in a “kick” I was heading into
*               * a revolving door,
every next day said, I could go, there with you
and the end of the line, God gave me aid.  He said
the line is drawn!
I was made.
    and that is what made me famous.
Gathered from Bishop Sheen
jcl Jun 27
i look out into dark, savoring the quiet, the stillness of new dawn, wondering who die today, whose life will end and whose will change forever, sending a shock of wave of pain and grief from an epicenter of a dead soldier

who will die today, whose mother wife daughter will cry today, whose father son brother will fall today

the sun has risen, reality has set in, its time to ride, its time for some to die, we roll the dice, who will land snake eyes

to sit in the humvee, knowing you are playing russian roulette, you can’t  have hope, no inkling of a dream, lose the desire, it is the only way to survive, knowing you may die, give up all hope, consider yourself dead, be grateful at the end of the day when you are not. the drive down suicide alley, like the walk up gallow’s stairs. now i know how they felt. you surrender to fate. you stop thinking, you stop feeling, you go numb.

no longer in control, my life is no longer mine to live or die

i don’t believe in You, not since i was a boy, but i pray, that if we hit an IED, that i die instantaneously. i don’t want to lay on the ground, feeling the horror of dying, crying that i want to live, screaming out for my mother like i’ve seen happen to other guys

there are things worse than death, the living hell of coming home in pieces, physically damaged, emotionally traumatized, spiritually disillusioned, which slowly erodes and destroys your life. a new war, another battle, this time at home, fought in your head. the cycle of trauma 6-9-12, addiction, depression, how long do you let yourself free fall till you hit rock bottom

i am a man, i am not suppose to be afraid, but i am, i can’t show or say, not to them, especially not to you. i am not allowed to show fear, be vulnerable, you will lose respect, stop loving me, tell me to man up, in some subtle way

when everyone has left, everything lost, when the pain is greater than the fear. you must, you will, reach out, or die in combat, killed in action, in the war fought in your mind.
I threw
for a
life beyond
the wood

I would
a tenth
& curse
the heart
like a
stuck in
the black
of years.

Past the
rye at
the edge
of the wood
cars never
into the
well of
the far
into the

I cancelled
quietly on
the dark
in the

a dozen
years were
my life.

It's not
to explain
But know
that I
the sun.

I broke
the moon
with song
& repaired
it with

I filled
my palms
with grass
& drank the

I hurt,
a break
of sleep.
I lived
by chrome.

And then
you, my
ace of

I lay
in the
you told
me of
the snow

I watched
the sky.

I walked
the theater
of the lawn
and found
you laughing.

me to you
like a

If you
you find
is yours.
Sienna Oct 2018
When you left
I could see
That what I kept
Was not to keep

A broken bond
was what you made
I was so fond
and yet I paid

For all the nights
you said you would
It was not right
“Can” is not “should”

So yes you left
And I was afraid
But a bond of theft
Isn’t one where I gain

I will not devote
Myself to his cause
So I said “end-quote”
This isn’t a pause

My life does not stop
Because he’s not here
I will not drop
And I have no fear

So I move on
Myself in check
He is now gone
No more Russian roulette
I wrote this so soon after it was over. I try to tell myself it's better this way. I don't know if I believe it.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
Here is the rub. Riddles we never got. Oh, my.

Serving to illustrate my point of departure from the mean norm.
the rub is the cause of the pain, not its purpose.

Pain is not for punishing, whatever that means to you.
Pain is for correction, for your own good, ditto the meaning part.

The rub is where touch goes too deep, applies too much braking,
the humdrumconundrum setting on life's pace (get the app) in the age of Google.

For more time than Google or its finders could agree, with me, to believe,
I have been waiting for this moment to arrive. There are places where that rubs.

Fiction, that does lubricate real ification, doesn't it.
I never noticed, until now. That's why liars prosper, maybe.

Jah, I saw it comin' on my back, in a safe place, two days before leaving Bien Hoa, Spring
1969. The White Album, Koss EPS6's, tight, no sound, dark, I wandered homeward.

Not all war stories are lies, some are parables, some are prophecies.

I waited until now was firm in every mind involved,
then launched the grand old party line to God almighty, in my mind

Radioman manifested from the dreams and events that seemed as dreams seem,
upon that time, when I lay waiting, near Bien Hoa.

Look homeward? Where? I have no memory, I've been Bourne Borked, why me?
Was I the hero of the story I was in? I must have been, I am alive and I am old.

And there, the acid message burned through my sckull and I played something
like Russian Roulette, with a character named Ken Kingman, who grinned like a devil.

All this in my mind. Where were we then, we Googled men? We friends on the grid?
Flesh and bone, muscle and blood, for God and country, do or die, don't ask why?

Airborne, All the way, ah, we sang that cadence in our dreams, even after we got the joke.
But we was always only me, we are imaginary, in my mind, extensive, albeit, still mine.

I didn't know.

No, you could not have known, that was just me, the meek little me speaks,
peeking beneath the banner over me. You never crossed my mind.

The show runner speaks up and has nothing more to say, we run on, fo' a long time,
lemme tell ye gotamighty gonna cut chadown. Run on, fo' a long

The point. Fret not. Been there done that entered the vernacular on my watch, I saw this.
I'm ready. You ever been slammed, honest t'God slammed to the ground, breathless?

breathing brings us to the center. Home is where your heart is. That's a riddle, BTW.
Where a thought is first thought seems to establish its eventual trajectory, don't you think?

We be comin' to some real that normal can fix on, soon, waitin's what we do til then.
No pain.  No rub, no, friction fiction uses warm a weary mind as to what might be.

When ye think a bout it. Something in the way we thought must 'ave mollified it, the rub,
above, with **** we let slip by. The aitch's do that. Aitch sounds. 'ushin' ohmmmm.
Here is where my hope, dear reader, lies.
T Jan 5
Hey you....ya you know who I am talking to.......I am the man that was living in your heart...Now tell me what I should do
I know the mistakes I made ....Yes I relive them everyday........the day I lost you ....I died was your love that made me the man I am today
I know it means something ....because of the way I still feel about you hide it but I know you feel it too
Hey you .....I still love you just like I did yesterday and the way I will tomorrow
Hey you I am tired of living in sorrow
Last year was the hardest year of my life.....hey you I still want you for my wife
Hey you......with what's left of my life I have no idea what I am supposed to do......hey you..... the world outside is so dark without you by my side........everyday it's my time I bide
Hey you.....I know that trying to get you back is like playing Russian roulette with my life......hey you .....but this is a chance I am willing to take......hey you......see these feelings that I have had for you have never been fake
Hey you.... I know the road must end one will never end unless you and I are ok
Hey life has never been looking so good..except for a little piece that's may be you it really could
Hey you there is just one thing I want to say this is the year I get you back.....and guess what it won't be long either it's all on track.
#it is time
Bob B May 4
Will Russia's election meddling ever
Come to an end? We keep hopin'.
But now the president blatantly
Colludes with Putin out in the open!

Recently, another phone call
Between Trump and Putin occurred.
Was Russian election meddling mentioned?
According to Trump, NOT one word.

But why would Trump want to stop
Interference in our elections?
If Russia helped him win before,
Why would he NOW raise objections?

He doesn't trust investigators
Here. He'd rather demonize
The FBI, while at the same time
He swallows all of Putin's lies.

Now team Trump seeks outside help
To hopefully tarnish the reputation
Of another political opponent.
Character assassination.

No maneuver is too low for Trump.
Will his actions come back to haunt him?
One thing we know: the Russians have
Donald Trump right where they want him.

People concerned about America's
Strength and safety should be upset
As Trump spins the cylinder
In a dangerous game of Russian roulette.

-by Bob B (5-4-19)
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Are we all here
Or elsewhere
Treetops Robin birds
What!! Is it only words?
The sky she wore the
blue velvet cry
Whats still here what
will life bring
Afterlife sing before I die?


Headless horseman goodbye
Breadwinner Sportsman
Your worst enemy
The closer he gets knowing
your drama/ Cowboy-comedy

"Whats Here"

The Emmy meeting
another writer
The Dude Ranch
Meet the "Ghostwriter"
The computer
early bird
Specially rude

The Medieval time of the
"Fable" sword fight
In a fork road, he was
born *English Sterling
The Silver anniversary
Dude piece boring
Whats here setting Ms.Dahla
Sweet Magnolia flowers
He's aiming for Azelia
What dudes grow
in her family
I'm here and he said
I'm the Dude

We are here Paul Revere rides
Breaks our glassware
Mr. Bigfoot needs to decide

Those Philly steaks "Heinz Ketchup"
Pittsburg tip of the iceberg here-up
Feeling sorry for the "Dude"

I'm right beside you here
Racers mouth racetrack win
More supernatural forces of sin
Rayban Mr. Sun-Ray glare
This was all I could take
in one day
It's important so let's stay
in one place
Where we can see one another
All dudes what eludes in character's

The false eyelashes her
prediction Alice madly
Tea party detention

Dancing in the
spiritual rain
She is the biggest pain

What cheeks swear
with her pinky
The blow dryer the
Big Lebowski stayer
Russian Roulette
Crystal fighter Swarovski
Homewrecker traveler
The dude investigation
*Risky business Dudes in the mansions

Rome cannot be built in one day
What's here your *Mom
baking noodle pudding today
You are laughing and both got
Brooklyn fever
Divine hour telling her how
much you love her
Familiar eyes hot dudes
The best flight activity
Getting you up
Your NativityI'm the dude cup

Always wondering you drift
Whose coming to dinner
*Mystery is it really here
        The Dude of a gift
Happy tears New Years

White Polar Bears

Days of daydreams dude stamps
All tolls and Polls
Twitter and Trumps
Or coming closer to
your darkest night
Forever wherever you are
It's the dark velvet satin

Night in White Satin
The other side of midnight
Humans animals always
the mating watcher's delight

Paper cuts of a paperweight
Feeling like a deadweight dude
The lightheaded most amazing night sky
The bright future warm you up
passionate guy

Whats here names
Don't use me usernames
Such con names, married names
Where each other's equal
Whats here love the sequel
The proud mother
My Bald Eagle

Hairy fluffy so cute beagle
He's the Quarter she backs up his note
The pushover Politician we deserve the vote

Writers believers lovers
and givers
Strangers are friends whats here
all depends
Getting mugged in Central Park
Grainy sugar you spark
Enjoying what I have today

The softer Rainy Lover
Whats here we are all here
Not elsewhere or over there
My Godly switch I'm here
Whats here you or me or who we believe to see let it be let it be
There are so many answers and those questions are here so reach don't start to preach show your love its whats here
I always said she had too much coffee and cake ,
her portly shape was due to too much wine ,
and now all she craved was a good time.

I always said the cigars she smoked were like
Tomb stones ,
to blind to notice,
to addicted to care .

I always said ,
I always said .

And her heart only beat to climb the stairs ,
and the chocolate and chips helped her through the day .

Rainbows and demons ,
Chains and weeds ,
and the wind and rain ,
and the rain and the wind found us on our knees .

Spoh koyn nee noh Cheh dorogoy , ( good night my dear ) for
I shall navigate my love under a starry host on my ship of jesters and
Fools .

You’re cigars and cake are the rainbows and demons ,
and chains and weeds to our love ,
For you’re laughter for our foolish freedom came not from God above .

Must I then take the ash and crumbs and the yellow **** you retch ,
and hope what’s left does not choke you .

We shall marry in our Geogian satire of smokin mirrors , gin and Russian roulette ,
I will play the doctor ,
You the patient.
Our babies will smoke cigars from their Georgian prams ,
Wine ,cigars , chocolates and cake I shall spoon feed you ,
.....until you’re dead .

For you’re chains and weeds have killed you ,
and death has taken you away .

And here at our table I shall sit alone ,
thinking of you .
With wine a cigar ,
Chocolate cake and a cigar I shall toast you ,
until this day ,
draw a curtain ,turn off the lights .
Sweet dreams my malen kaya kroshka
( my little crumb )
sweet dreams .
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