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1 Women, filing in to dine
Happen to be being pulled, Woven into a pattern. The hard Hempen latticework of communities Bind one to all, or seem to. 6 Finding, though, when they feed, Taking one bite that waits until the last one's done, Sustaining no one but that personal carcase they're used to, Winning no insight to the others' reveries Thinking that, though together, each one's alone, 11 Straining. Each isolate's immured in honeycomb. |
A a B b A b B c C d C b D a E d A c D a E a |