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She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. “Um, he took me to the Big Apple.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 18-09-2024 16:44:16
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