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Sport 39: 2011
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In the antique Sumiya pleasure house, lounging zone of poets and courtesans, the peacocks lit on their shady bough in the mulberry tree. Such a head-turning couple!
Yet it filled me with sadness to think of the branches we climbed all those summers ago in our bare, callused feet.
Berries as ripe as our plump young bodies, warm as a brown egg. Railway china.
I hurried away to the North on a slow train.