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Shrunk in the inner circel
The groaning cannot be heard
A bad strategy in a naive space
To listen to the erective instincts
Bloodied from the sense of guilt
She's making her way
Out of the blind alley
The anguish of a touch reaching over our understanding
It is like a hammer blast
Which changes completely the perception of her life
She's afraid of looking into her own eyes
Bloodied...
