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Lola Rennt

Annabel Lee

And this maiden she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me

Shameless theft
Breakfast
annabelleec
I scribble your words on the inside of my sweaty palms lest the words escape me once the feeling of the moment evaporates.  I cut and paste from your life into mine.  I squeeze every last drop of inspiration that transforms itself into words written on the mirror with red lipstick, on old photographs with a pair of scissors, on pale skin with a razor.  And I guess this shameless theft is ok.  Or so says Jim Jarmusch. 

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