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To part IIjean 3 jean doesn't know this. her soft-spoken truths are filled with meanings greater than gold and less than fear. her voices chant and respond, a strip tease choreographed to a litany, technicolor morphing anime rerun rererun rerun. it's so cozy inside. i became weak for jean and crazy, for jean. so when jean speaks it's all or nothing. no one knows nothing about truth and balance. her flesh speaks now. i am lulled by her surety, grabbed by her weakness, together. it's a different voice entirely.
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