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Shrunk in the inner circle
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 from the sense of guilt
She’s making her way
Out of the blind alley

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