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You are famous as famous can be, laced

the world with fear and death. I tried to

keep you at arms length, yet you crossed

the defense like a sneaky basketball player,

giving me this weird bitter taste in my mouth, a sore throat and muscle aches like

your cousin Flu. What else can I say or do but to accept your invasion, lay flat, dream of missing a flight in the airport, also dreaming of a final peace, a plot of land devoid of thoughts.