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in death she will leave the shape of a cat
The outline of horse’s hooves are tattooed into the drought baked road. White clay gravel hard, and the echo ...
The lights in the street are gold or white or blue.
The primitive grass says nothing of what’s to come. ...
Outside the Library, the pigeons do to Redmond Barry what Ned Kelly never could.
Do my ears look big in this? You’d tell me if they did, Right? Cause my forearm clashes with my pants. ...
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She bought a new car, a 4WD, and for the first time in her life, she was still unhappy.