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--- W I L L I A M   M .  G O T T L I E B

	whorl foot to wind

Why will that a black-hot wildfire spread rapidly as light, why wile away your eyes from widely wifing the drawn world, away to this widowly life in Will’s wiggy wilds where dark wights – letter-creatures crawling into your features – seek souls solitary as a reader, why will this would of words to wily pupils if not to make them weep as will- owy trees in the willing day cry beautifully?

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