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jean 2 in jean, the strong and the weak are perfectly matched somehow. she hums with the polarity, she chants and responds to herself, and only i can hear. inside me a dozen men all at cross purposes dance to impress her and they partly succeed. they mess themselves one after another, first on their damp warm bodies then their rich fresh hearts, almost missing things she shows them - movements, poses, sincere gestures that should explode slo-mo in their chests, and in my chest.
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