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I came across my middle name
whose innocence I thought forgotten in slumber repeating itself like a zebra on water. I count the letters the sound itches my brain as an accordion hitting the underground's walkers. Incidentally, I don't read Vanity Fair maybe because I'm vain I don't read poems to my mother maybe because she is there I don't read my middle name on purpose, afraid in vain of another person's silence.
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