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….senting
perfume….

musty,
but didn’t see
turning my head
feet following
I
miss you

Lookin’ at

my
feet
and I’m
in are dark
room
where only
shawdows dweall

the moans in
the dark call
for 

me

to join ’em
but you
been there….
I run not
in fear, (liar!)
but in bordom….

where is it?
where is it?!

that thing
of sexual contentment….

distracted
where’s my
Path?

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