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I don't have the slightest idea about the look into emptiness the meaning of curtains dust my right hand of the things around them in general about what is fair I listened I said I understood I smiled I boiled and I cried letting myself racked by spite and fury I banged my head against the wall and I yelled straight at the moon's face in this heavy and yellow air I am an icy back and this heap of words - a dead animal and I didn't look back anymore you should be feeling me like an onion from which you bite even if it makes you cry when what I could do capitulates I would say that love is a sound that you should be too nothing but to hear it
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