Brush of the broom becomes the yellow smudge and two blue arms puzzled notch into one neatly curves and with eyes of the deer in my palms gallivanting over brown pair of shoes
Where blossoming impatience of the circling thrilled the nipples of a sucking mother.
Porch swings and autumn times painstakingly crystallized golden valleys into golden hills whose annex is the city of gold the prime destination of finally makind settlement
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