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■ The oak
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I believed it would be summer forever
until forbidden trees from heaven shook off their fruit a season for those with the heart somewhere in their neck yet a too low heart for the offspring of a cornucopia era until it started to fall apples pears apricots peaches all of them made of soft wax with the wick inside like a twisted worm they popped them on their heads but no one lit them women with very long nails and glossy lips did not bite did not thrust their fingers into them no one received any light people were baptized to believe that wonders don't exist they were all as if dripped over with wax/ they were blind only a child kept an apple in the palm of his hand cinema curtains were golden they looked like an archangel's wings outside it was snowing there were fluffy stories and caramel apples on display shelves the old confectionery chef was dead
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