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Shed your skin of cotton with dirt and grime complete. Feel the smooth brown marble floor that’s cold against your feet. Turn the metal handle, almost entirely to the left. Feel the frigid arctic water that takes away your breath.
  and I am sitting in my bed and i see the water turn my doorknob, dissolve the door hinges and all I can think is that “orange” is the only word that has ever seemed to rhyme
After my work day is done
What is it that I am But a cloth hung up to dry In the spring breeze Quickly, hopefully, before it rains. And when it rains, I am forgotten, Drenched again from head to toe,
Gray and full of shade I can see raindrops playing their game Not a drop of sunlight on my face Just wet, wet rain
Though wet And cold, lovely Drops from the sky look to The helpless puddle on the ground To fall
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