ant5

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in your niche

another

catastrophe

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tomorrow

no band

aids

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after you’re gone

we can’t help

the squirrels

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we get a few

seconds with

the gold coins

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when the crows came

you were nowhere

to be found

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from your wound

a bronze

edge

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the wasps didn’t

need the outside

of the mouse

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you can’t stop

Skrillex or

the Italian Baroque

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the moon runs

her fingers through

the willow’s hair

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the breeze rocks

the peaches from

their tree

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