Library naps dreamed, all you, filled up sneezing books with new words like tangerines, all you. To wake, she heard the curling french scripts of H5 pencils, whispered, indistinct. They are alouding our secrets, but "they don't know us," and they do not read the books anymore. They get straight A's. They forget to breathe. There are so many things I will take, from this old forest of flatness, that I have scratched out for you. If you are small, I will water you. We will grow our sap-snap vines together. we will conquer the microfilms with furious begonias.
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