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molding the steps of unspoken words
in the poems of daylight:ever growing sense of brotherhood with the hour, in which he could squeeze the sour for eternity. he was alone in the blue Friday, a mysterious woman of delight on his leaps,melting on the walls undistinguishable and high. in a sudden silence,the desire of living, those who trespassed the bounds of his slow shadowing ego,an invasion of propriety. a never ending motion of flair, inward, an intricate pattern of birds flying the mind of a poet
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