It’s not the arid pulse that draws the spinal cord to your palm. It’s the sweat that dripped from the interiors of your eyes and the tongue that catches the rainbows and prevents them from cascading across the sky. Golden slumbers induce fireflies and wasted lives. Integrate into the previously kissed metropolis concluding in mustard colored and ketchup stained pavement, while the arches keep the back in a permanent perpendicular state. And this is the so called alarm clock of the century.
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