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Oh god: who's the guy to whom you write those melliferous curses?
who is it Patricia?
the guy: who so mexically rippled your mitochondrias:
no:
it must be no one smaller as Buddha is:
I want to impose a rum sentence to universe with him
I want to carbonate our belching with a good champagne with him
untill  gin doesnt impose the vomiting on us
I want to look into his eyes
and to see the most widespread pupils in the land of love:


(for P.A.)








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