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March 05 2017

8526 8062 500
Ah, my dear Emily. You need to stop following me around everywhere. It's kind of like you are stalking me from inside my computer. All the hundreds of screenshots of you are constantly following me everywhere I go. Stop it.

Oh, and I wrote a poem about you.

The sticky goddess of the moonlight evening

A burnt umber autumn flutters
a naked rain of love!
You magnify in the image of youth
as in a gleaming vicinity
like parched banner: clusters
in the sticky grace, many mourning wax
but the candle enriched the memory.

In the smallest sapphire flesh
the dilute ness of the bottle, the power of the sky
a mist of stones
A car is not enough to strike me and keep me
from the land of your verdure phenomena
the dignity of the soul!

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