"on the gown of the youngest princess,
and she cried to her sister."
it is the lip of the brew.
We have time and space
and seven dollars.
Everything is here.
Black-clad women with red rollers
and blue flip-flop art gazers;
couples jungled with strollers;
collisions and cursing.
"Yes, it would tell its fissioned descendants, the universe is two feet by five, and if you listen closely you can hear the buzzing music of the spheres."
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