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As the Bistro filled with mock-heroics, I am brought to memory of long ago, my unsuspecting heart.
The mynah, perched in ribbon-like staccato, as the chanteuse in mellifluous tones, reveals those hungry, in search of contentment from their faraway past.
My sangaree shows a mellow, as the ocean smacks its lips upon the shore. Resolved, I turn up the corners of my mouth, love myself a little more and know enough is as good as a feast.
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