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Clive Owen's face is a sewer for the refuse of my splintered lovePierced by the p***s of rejectionAnd oozing its sinuous innards in an endless rush of hatredClive Owen's face is covered with black tar and I am eating itHis pale flesh appears through the tarWhich melts away and drips into a pool of anxietyIts amorphous presence assails my bodily orificesAs I scream it winds its way into my mouth, my jaw lockedClive Owen bellows a hearty laugh and all fades to black
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