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■ The oak
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It takes a shower and he is bright,
Watching its body humble and thin. The water like rain is there to clean The clothes of the day and those of the night. Its skin. Is it white or has it a hue? Its eyes are closed ready to see. A bird is crossing its mind with glee. It feels a shudder complete and new. It turns off the tap and takes the towel Wiping the tears crossing its face. There is no mirror to see Johnny’s grace… Only his voice is heard like a vowel.
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