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Friday, August 15, 2003

the posted fidelity
remains pure. your
season expresses
diligence, a truculent
curing. no unknowns spray
heavily within the
sentence structure you
admire. here is a day
filled to the brim, and modest
impasses in the sky
resume.the code seems
impure. antic aliens
fill harbinger day.
everyone wants a new
word.

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