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The biggest berries are in the centreof a tunnel of thorny bushes.A shark gaping wide,promising not to nip.
We watch them, hypnotized.Pale and mysterious,They rise and fall. Joe says“They look like ghosts.”
Teach me the language of Cat;the slow-motion blink, that crystal stare,a tight-lipped purr and a wide-mouthed hiss.Let me walk with a saunter, nose in the air.