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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2011-05-26 | | She is as translucent as the air around. Her face is the map of her life spent in solitude. Nobody knows anymore How far her dreams can fly. One question I heard in the morning, when sitting Next to her, Near a cup of tea, in the light of the sun ring. She was asking me Stubbornly The same question,over and over again, "How could I make my thoughts not think?"
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