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The process runs in its own space,
it's
dual-core, but poly-threaded--Lorain wounded by petulant skies, quicker pedestrians--this pill nails me to running water, and leaves me to hang
dry against mouthing wood oily, with cracked hands--she's making lists while I split and bleed mahogany--wonder about that rush of tracing faces
walking night clean--showing me a page black'd out--so you want about touching files too, eh-- Hellish with strings, with enterprise
architecture
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