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The observer and the observee are the same
but we cannot observe that at once...
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One was imploring
for forgiveness for the crime...
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some days
my thirst is so immense...
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Trackers never track
until the tracking happens...
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Beatings many,
love notes few...
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Indian summers
make us wheeze, cacophonies...
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The-Fiery-Fierce-Fire
fires Fire firing Fiery-Fierce-Fire...
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Write them on the sand
Don't carve your words on the rocks...
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Beautiful Brookside
in all your brown-eyed lovers...
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I’m folding laundry again.
I see the little shorts you wrote a poem about...
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I feel the wind on my neck,
the rain on my skin...
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I long for something with passion,
Dripping out the seams...