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The Furtive is Now

People embracing the same cloud, spinning their bosons. People as quick as edited effusion downright, possible ranch where the next elephant can be first. A quick look asserts a practical side to terrorism. People have been fed with bell tones tuned to trickle theory. Trees in the offing insist on whistling to clouds, brash tactics for a new rocket season. Today will be the same thing as staking a witch. Same thing the dignity of arrows. Same thing rocketship to morass. A port opens in time for relief. War torn looks lovely this time of year.

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