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paint that beach with yellow and not brown as it is seen,
while the swimmers flap their arms of the flags between,
treated sewerage bubbles through up their noses and ears,
infecting their brains as if the memories disappears,
circles of circular motion fill in the stomach place,
as the pale coldness is showing on their face,
fueled propulsion gliding the bad things out,
while afterwards only laying uncomfortable about,
the sickness pushes through the body never to end,
as only time will fix what is to mend,
the temperatures of the forehead produce visions of mixed sense,
as the places that infected us take the expense.