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I think it’s just the after-effects. Am I sipping
Sierra Mist? Was I
doing same at Starbucks
at 7:30 this morning?
The birds squeal quietly.
I’m feeling. Not at
panic. Just
exceedingly. Is it hyperbole to go
on and on? Part of it
is dancing,
sure, and the open morning.
Morning’s
openness (my throat is empty to not
destroy it). That’s a
really cute
necktie. My mind is
an ass. No drip,
severe congestion.
