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Saturday nights.
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Grace / Zabriskie giving you cryptic hints how to get there but not
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We are Starseeds
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I promise you nothing … I accept your promise … of the
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It is possible to be with someone
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The grass grows between the enemy of my enemy’s clenched fists, but she still won’t move.
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an orange memory
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Living is no laughing matter:
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Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
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In a former existence I must have been a painter
