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- I hatch a disheveled plan,
- with my twin inside my hand
- Wisps whisper and portend our scheme
- we will never be redeemed
- Red juice, bitter and briney
- Transpire from my foolish soul
- White osseins, shardy and sharp
- from my arm they point crosswise
- You are dumb and you proved that!
- Twin, yield me from flattery
- It's night, the sun fondles my chest
- Forgive me, we are both dead
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