Only Marginal Chances Of Finding A Great White In My Coffee Although The Cigaret'S Tubular Belly Is Flotsam Against My Hand - A Dirty Kerosene Color, Sleek & Grey. 2 And Stirring The Embers Of My Cup, Suppose The Grinds Become Primitive Shark Lore Of Forgotten Peoples Or Death Sticks, Dry Rot Teeth, Fathoms Squinting Light.
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