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the ai goes out for breakfast
They/it/hier slips through the door behind a blurry eyed early morning customer and slides into a little wooden chair at the back of the...
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Jolie Laide There she hangs, his masterpiece and her own, Immortalised in paint, painted over until, A finished moment masks all tha...
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Her beating heart, so tired now, nerves worn thin with worrying, Her legs, led her, running on empty, to the place where she could rest ; ...
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