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there, where you live, live: start over, everyman, with the algae of your dreams.
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The ache of marriage: thigh and tongue, beloved, are heavy with it....
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... asks what it's too late to ask: 'Where is my life? Where is my life? What have I done with my life?'
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Marvelous Truth, confront us at every turn, in every guise.
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I would be met and meet you so, in a green airy space, not locked in.
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