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■ The oak
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A shiver. It touched my eye and it vanished.
Then you pierced it. You stood still while I was hurting you. You walked all over me as if I were a field of solitude. My skin was the ground. My hair was the green. My wounds were the gulfs. I was bleeding an endless rebirth. You bruised my hearing. My smell. My taste. You touched my touch. You thundered in me. Newly born from the dephts of my sight. A shiver. Born to be different, Thought it was easy to fight; You failed and you won.
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