I Close My Eyes


 

Let me kiss the softness of the night

Hae.mi, to which I’ll never know

I am the wildness in your purity

Though if I yearn for it too much, it will go

Into the music of misaligned intention

Into the pictures of faces unknown

Back to the masses of our stories

Our stories that are always wounded

You say I remind you of some unpleasantness

Can I not exalt and rejoice in each invisible encounter

For in my poverty of heart, I’m indebted to be haunted

I am very dark, but lovely, and loving – or else

An anonymous thief, ready to be caught

As a famous beggar for gifts of tenderness

I am the mystic honey in the simultaneous midnight

I am the lonely wolf of lost time, there’s no room for me

Between earthly lives and mothers and sons, I’ve been left

Abandoned by the vulnerable timid ones so cautious

There are silver scales in my snowy pupils

And I am your student, fine-arted through the fall

Let me embrace what I cannot possess, Hae.mi, I am dumbfounded

Though I indeed was once so innocent

There’s no closure until the time of new lovers

I know how sleek the seasons move

The souls of winter are my fondest friends

We’re all souls of mothers and pieces of each other.

The Last Offering


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I come, to the void of myself often
It is the soul of my solitude
It is where all the curtains are drawn

And I am in my own privacy, in touch
With something of the divine
I go there like an escape from the outside world

It is my heart of subjectivity
And I do not find it at all terrifying
It’s a splendour to own such a place

A piece of art, an order of nature
The soul built by spiritual suffering
A palace of mysticism who could understand?

What to an artist is their dream
To the cruel world how futile and juvenile
But we all require a soul to function

* * *

A spirit to push us through those terrible nights
Where the world is truly against us
And we are abandoned by friendship, love, profit

How many days of my life have I slept there
Alone, for that is the self-indulgence of
Risking and of striving illicitly, stubbornly

Against the peer pressure of such a conforming world
That cares for profit, reproduction, tradition
Perhaps we are not all made for that, I do not know?

But friends do leave and a dull pragmatism does
Set in, like the idea of responsibility for ordinary things
As when mates leave us for our idealism

I would have imagined it would be a virtue
But what if in all of this, the world is wrong?
And my soul is right, and I am doing what

I was meant to do all along, how shall I forgive myself then
For squandering my talent in subjectivity
And loving my own doom through it all

* * *

There is no room in this world for poets
So perhaps we shall do it as if in secret revolt
The revolution is always born inside

I need no solace from existence, only
My divine food, my guise of dream, my birthright
Of sacred psychology, that is why I write

It’s not a delusion nor in glowing pink afternoons
A mistake I made in being who I chose to be
It’s my exercise in the cosmos and empathy

It’s my last belonging to simplicity
It’s me mimicking all I thought was beautiful
To be grateful for a moment, together
With silence, whiteness, bareness, authentic authority.

My Fabric was made by deep organ-notes 


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I have been quiet a long while
Through my soul wet with spirit
Though my heart whole with love
Though my passion righteous

With strange infinitude
I have not any body of royalty’s sign
I’ve grown old, weak, alone
Haloed with my mystic literature

I uncoil beauty’s parting
And the sun’s goodbye to youth
And there is no wine-flush left
No opalescent hope for prosperity

I am all that I will ever be
From becoming to indignity
My compassion has been ministered
Upon this Earth in little bursts

And that’s enough for whichever
Strange singer’s mind gave birth to me
I am the cosmos suddenly poor
Suddenly curious for a weary lifetime.

When my Soul Returned to Me


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-Painting by Thu Nguyen

I was born a revelation in a brain
Without prophets I learnt
The triggers of the rose and the majesty

Of simplicity, without ownership
I travelled to the spiritual reality
Where my soul was sent on a journey

Across invisible landscapes
Towards a purity of reincarnation
We remapped our vision trance

Until everything become part of the same thing
And everyone in those places
Actors of the same divine entity

And by and by my voice returned to me
My native voice of oneness and poetry
And that it answered with sweetness

And a kindness of dreaming friendship
with the players of every walk of life
With the homeless, the downtrodden and its as if

Everyone here is on a seeking quest
To go through stories to reach for a source
These are the revelations of wonder that came

To visit me, that I have writ but only translated
From a thousand mystics, from a hundred climes
The moving finger writes, but the heart serves.

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Compassion watches with Poetry


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I’ve been listening
To the breath inside the breath
Of time, can you hear it?

It’s a question that doesn’t answer answers
It’s a love that doesn’t want marriage
And a craving for divinity

That no doctrine or philosophy can quench
It’s the poetry beyond what has been said
The ocean that merges into a drop

The drop that is the totality
Of love witnessing the universe
I’ve been watching

For a lifetime of looking and identity
Until identity has become new
I am a hole in the flute of the comic flute
When all has become glorious music.

Gospel of What we Have Writ 


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Gospel of What we Have Writ

Eun Ji, I found that perfect love casts out all fear
That I could love one another as
Nature hath loved us, or ancestors, or descendents
If our refuge can be found here

Let its strength be a very present solace
In the sorrow, trouble, obstacles
If love be the way, then we must
Work together for some greater good

That salvation might not be personal at all
But something shared, given, freely?
Is this not then the altruism of art
That it gives freely like the Saint

And loves the sinner as much as anyone
For how different are we truly in our weakness?
That strength is just life and youth
I can do all through meaning that strengths me

Finding meaning in this or that, does it matter?
For psalms, poetry and the sweetness of labor
That only gives in the doing and revitalizes all experience
That the inner flame in me can only be sufficient

And such is the inner-life that buds and bleeds and jewels
A stronghold of beauty, a tender gratitude which ascends.

The World is Fading 


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The World is Fading

Writing is thinking on paper
Poetry is music on air
Someday I’ll know how not to be a fool
Not to be attached and insist
For beyond teachings, I’ve learned

Tenderness, and beyond hurt
I’ve learned compassion
Until my heart became clear

And I was resolved to peace
Attuned to soul
Surrendered to spirit
I need to give up what
No longer works and take up new

Ways of being that keep us close
To what matters, like divinity
Writing is thinking in narratives

Poetry is communion with the infinite
The poet has enough flowers
To doze in dream worlds
My poems are not poems
They are how I speak to nature.

Psalms of the Organic source #quote #refuges


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Psalm of Souls

The spirit is a beacon
And the righteous run to it and are safe
Among those whose faith is pure
How fine their company
Trusting in what is sure

The universe becomes a world of understanding
Our path becomes straight
The world strengths and helps us
And our righteousness is reflected
Back unto us, for good deeds multiply

Do not let your hearts be troubled
For in giving peace, peace may you receive
But take heart, even unkind men
Have a glimmer of hope
And nations in strife crave the faith

Benevolent acts are our refuge and our warmth
In giving we become free of our own troubles
Therefore focus on the on high
To make thy will pure with ease
Look upon the mountains and the skies

We were not given a timid spirit
But a spirit captured by the power of love
And the heart of self-discipline
That was born to love all creatures
And do good works unto this world

In bonds of mutual faith, good works become
Doing our spirit’s will and lifelong salvation
It is found in shouts of joy and bearing
Witness to the small victories of others
As if it were our own, how fine the company

Of our sisters and brothers in this place
The fraternity of all souls is my refuge
A community as large or small
As my heart is willing to bear
I preserve life according to words

Words that are my sacred weapons
Words that are my soul’s quality
Words that stream forth in amazement
Words that embrace and answer me
With the kindness of others
And the tenderness of life’s many wonders.

Mystic Garden #Quote #Poetry


35


Deeper than me that almost no one knows

The Universe feels
From distances and echoed times
Behold love, in the heart of everyone

An undivided wisdom of a trillion beings
Melted in Love’s own fire
Our spirits flow
Glamor of the rose

Heights of the Heavens
Tremendous opportunity of the cosmos
I feel the source run through me

Wonder-breathing flowers
Gratitude-thinking sun

And all the spirit’s weak lyric repose
And all flavours of mortality

Perfume of the petals of spring
And all the secrets the stars disclose
To galaxy and brethren

In the unaccomplished aeons
My descendants will find a way
To build a love that can endure.

Whisper of the poet seers


4

Whisper of the poet seers

God alone is enough
Said the Angels to the women
Nature alone is enough
Said the mothers to the children

Trying to let the little boys
To find gratitude for what nature gives
Let nothing startle you
Said the Saint to the sinner

The sinner only smiled
For as a beggar he knew
Whoever has God
Lacks nothing, and there

Are as many secrets to happiness
As there are men, God alone
Is enough, to pray means then
Not to desire for one self

But to serve a higher power
I will tell you when Spring comes
Said the Angels to the chorus
How God knows how to heal

Time reinvents herself every April
I will believe it when I see it
Said the little girl to the big world.

Lullaby of futurities


88

Lullaby of futurities

I found reluctant peace
In the entirely beautiful
Memory of the future
It was as if I had been there
My sleeping head thus cried out

Mortal, guilty, embarrassed
To be alive, yet entirely
Giving, like a fever
I was swept with a faith
So radical, so abstract

So universal, I was lost
In the hermit’s ectacy
Of mystic super-sympathy
“the future”, my soul called out
With relief a certain fidelity

This too shall change, how lovely
It was to know that she
Would arrive, as sure as
A growing child’s full
Dawn of intelligence

The spirit in bloom
And the soul’s whispers
The inner beauty like a lullaby
Of whatever must be
To arrive at her wildly entertaining

Vistas of nature’s genius
She, the lovely future
Watched by every human love
With such involuntary glory.

This is descendent divinity


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57

I taste the liquor
Of descendent divinity
What is it? It is like the Tao
It cannot be named and it is

A mystical portion of evolution
It is the spirit brewed in Man
The soul in the girl child
That is too sensitive for life

Life in her cruelty and brutality
I taste the water
Of lifetimes, of the infinite
And smell the fragrance

Of forever, scooped in pearl
Inebriate of air I am,
Reeling, through an endless
Encounter with seasons

That I am so intimate with
I can nearly get drunk
On golden bees and lilac sunsets
It’s enough to be alive

Some days, no need to be a saint
I taste liquor on the breath
Of youth in an old body
Like mine, leaning against the sun!

Blessed be in weary time of beginnings


53

Blessed be in weary time of beginnings

Death sets a lovely significance
On all our lives and more
For each ecstatic verse

Was an instant of our mind
Held like descendent divinity
The mysticism in our genes

It’s a future we keep reliving
And a past we keep repeating
For each beloved hour

Has a sharp pang of lost years
Bitter contested failures
And love-eyed private victories

They say we err in front of the world
That cannot remember anything
But succeed in our own merit
In the private judge of a soul’s conscience.

Jami’s Last Words


10

What is poetry? The heart standing
Still, in the promised land

The song of the bird
Of the spirit-mind

The simplicity of the world of
Eternity, where light echoes
From word to golden word
And we are not won yet?

Our body forgets beauty?
Our love grows faint yet?
What is poetry? The soul mirroring
The love of more innocent hearts

The youth of the Divine rose garden
That outlasts all suffering, separation
It draws its faith and power
From a unity with the sacred

What is poetry? It’s the voice
Of god speaking from our heart
In feeling-words, shadows of

Left-over tears from the hardships
Every being must live through.

Rare


4

The beloved is magnified in seclusion
And the Beloved is sanctuary in adversity
So when treading on horizons of dread
Remember what the beloved means

How the divinity touched you?
Revealing revelations and secrets
Giving strength even in weakness
And hope even in failure

How every being is organized
Somehow in its rightful place
Or in creative tension with a hostile world
The world is stored away in non-existence

If this is simply a simulation, live
Live it as you would a beloved experience
Do not settle on what the beloved is too much
For freedom requires a minimum of definition

Adapt to the private room of your moment
Detached from all appearances and judgement.

The Cup that shows the world


3

The spirit of time has entered my blood
And I am alive, in a whole new way
I’ve felt the gateway’s breath

Of the worshiper before birth
And the saviour after death
I feel fire and idol in my heart

I’ve drunk all the wines of this world
And now, I am ready for the future
Not as a person, but as a consciousness

Give a helping hand to those
As much as you can, who show
The will to be support others

Through humans will break their
Vows a hundred times, and make
The same errors all over again

The universe is a ruthless compassion
And evolution is a tyrannical master
But unbeliever, the deities are about
To be born all over again.

Expression of mystical love


The great day is when you are set free
From your personality, ego, attachments
The soul sets free upon pure service
Never to profit the same again

The body no longer craves biology
And the brain no longer craves
The familiar suffering of existence
It requires rather the essence of holiness

The value of sacredness and sacrifice
The poetry of inner spirit and divinity
It’s a state of ecstasy the common
Mind cannot entertain, know, or touch

On that day, filled by the vision of
Something beyond humanity
The tribe, the wars, the history
I found my body became purer tears

No trace remained of why I loved myself
Or what I sought for myself alone
I was no longer an individual alone
Against an indifferent world

But I was a privileged duty to serving God
God without a seal of belief or book of faith
God the universe without possessions
God the love without the need for a lover.

Paradox of Thought


58

I aspire to silence the voices
That I may speak for all voices
The function of a room is
To keep the body well

The function of a mind is
To keep the soul serene
I will never hear the one true voice
But in the Tao I find ultimate empathy

And I give it to all creatures here
And in silence I feel the snowflakes
The clouds, the trees, the light
In a whole new way against

The night, alive in the day
I become like the breeze
That rustles the leaves
And by disappearing to myself

I have room to identify with everything
That is the function of silence
My friend, we’ve thought of how
The poet spoke the thoughts

Of history, well as a finger points
To the stars, the mind dreams
In silence, language finds God.

Lush


52

Lush

I had the courage to
Let go of thoughts
And found myself living in Silence

There highest knowledge
Was unbounded like a gold
Center of the void
Delimited by duality
I could see the unity-sphere

And I had the experience
Of nearness to emptiness
Tao is the source of these

Of unity, silence, emptiness
And I felt a sweet surrender
Letting go of what I wanted
Letting go of what I had planned
For something about the universe

That attracted me to living
In the moment, looking at
A flock of birds, or reading
The poem of the world
In fullness to myself
Reverberating with everything.

The sight of you Amazes me


31

for Syl65

The sight of you Amazes me

Love is
Where I laid my living body
Where I gave it rest
In the miracle of celebration
That comes from the

Most spiritual feeling
Love is
Seeing life through
The eyes of Angels
Where my heart must rest

Away from human love
But in the depths of bliss
Start seeing everything as God
Keep it a secret
It doesn’t take long

To transform the misery
Of a life, into something
Sublime, like a prayer
That floats gently into the night
Love is

Where I gave my soul away
To a cause that brought
The heights of harmony
Down for a day, infinite existence
Reincarnates having turned to ash

As I neared God, I found
I couldn’t look away.

I am Laughing to hear you think you have a thousand serious moves


30

I am Laughing to hear you think you have a thousand serious moves

And still, after all this time
The skies are free
And stars light up the sky

For the eyes of our descendants
Run my dear, for anything
Is better than to live
In the past, I’d prefer to

Leap into the spring of futures
Where your precious
Budding wings strengthen
My resolve to become

A better person, day after day
Month after month, I have
So much to learn, still
More to give, I know

There is a love in me
To lighten up the whole sky
The saint knows the path
Is a game with God

The mystic feels the flood
Even in tripping over joys
In the torment of the doom
Of the worst days,

And still, after all this time
The blooms are real flowers
And my eyes smile at delight
That fantastic mood of
The Beloved, being everywhere.

Premonition of Transcendence


51

The gateway of my being
Is a wide open clarity
Where I am tired of speaking

I want to go beyond
Into the nameless silence
Where duality disappears

And forms seem unimportant
Unfasten my being into
Pure energy, quantum syrup

For the Ananda in my brain
I want to go on, I cannot;
I am not built for dreams

But destined to sing in
Imprisoned blood, separated
Like a self in egocentricity

Arriving forever at selfishness
Keen to behold a face of springtime
That is more expressive than instinct

Grant that I see the face of
The living one day, I wish
Everything would speak to me

Each pulse arriving forever
Only in the relative present
That is only an entrance of magical reflections.

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http://www.deviantart.com/art/Gone-491037965

A Gift of God


48

Mother of my Angels
Master and spouse of my
Soul’s bread and water

Come to me, in simple purity
All that I am is yours
My possessions mean nothing
To me, my ownership is not
Something I value, I seek

The universal frenzy of thy bliss
And peace beyond the goodwill
Or ill will of men, their politics

I tire of their customs of ignorance
Let my cavalry be a spiritual vocabulary
The last touch of prayer before
The world changes, as I change
Along with the world, as is

My divine inheritance of this world
Of poverty, these heart-broken people
Their sadness is my sadness, but

My compassion, will it ever reach
Its perfect age? Will I ever know
The fulfillment of my empathy?
Or shall I be as a secret friend to life
Who gave to life only secret signs

And hidden signals? Who will know
My face that lived for the Will of God
The faith of each one’s true experience?

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Nature is the greatest mystic


15

They say Nature is the greatest mystic
She doesn’t know how to pretend
She simply is, and does

What was intended
Following her nature fully
Without doubt or misgivings
That is why I love
The quiet of the mountains

And the rebirth of the oceans
I enjoy the purity of water
I take pleasure in mountains, streams

To sharpen my spirit by solitude
But to mate and care for other animals
Is a kind of nature too
The stones in the water would not disagree
The upper worlds and the lower worlds

Need to hold hands together sometimes
For a harmony to arrive
I don’t know whether I’m

On my way or finally at home
But it’s peaceful here
Watching the eyes of children
Observing the flocks of birds
The green mountains have

Turned yellow so many times
Who am I to judge what is nature
The machines we made
Are born of our evolutionary-force
All intelligence is natural then.

16

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1. http://www.deviantart.com/art/I-see-world-in-the-fire-348101247
2. http://www.deviantart.com/art/dace2-82430307

The Beautiful Landscape


13

In the real world
The pure world
No separation exists

That is why in this world
You sometimes feel things
Are connected in a way
Beyond explanation, the subtle
Layer of reality is not divided

It’s a quantum entanglement
Like perfect enlightenment
That’s the beautiful landscape

Mystics see, after a lifetime of seeking
And the original language
Linguists of the soul observe
In the real world
Of ideas and energy

We are all strange and rare
And yet indivisible, parts of the same
Origin, coming from the same source

I know, it’s difficult to fully grasp
Traveling east or west
Light and free
Identity is preserving the self
In the real world, identity
Is a myth, a fragment, a shell.

14

Photo Courtesy:

1. http://www.deviantart.com/art/A-l-aise-197858159
2. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Morning-at-Situ-Gunung-II-95853490

Neptune’s Shining Electrons


9

The universe loves and melts us
With time’s water, dreams
Our will must abide by nature
And our years must learn

To laugh with fleeting joys
And the sea exists without the waves
And the light exists without the suns
And life observes without

One or another particular race
And planets must attune
Themselves to the cosmos
To be ready to participate in it

Planets, stars, stardust, earths
The moulding furnace and the
Wispy dynasties of bliss
The thirst for more

Progress and creation’s waves
To let the quantum signature
Make of our lives what it may
In solid, liquid, vapour and light

Mould us to an energy
Beyond the limits of the original body
Across boundaries of eternity
Knower, knowing, known as one

Object and subject identified together
Meditation and action shinning
Entering a great myself that is not me
A spotless mental sky that has
Celestial aims, transcendent views.

10

Photo Courtesy:

1. http://voyager.jpl.nasa.gov/gallery/images/neptune/1bg.jpg
2. http://voyager.jpl.nasa.gov/gallery/images/neptune/2bg.jpg

For Those Who Don’t Know They Know


120

Think of yourself as nothing
Totally forget yourself for one minute
How sweet it is to be natural
Without egocentricity
Look and hear not just for yourself
But be what you see
You can enter the Universe of thought
The thought of the Universe
A state that is beyond time and place
But in order to enter the Universal
You must forget your troubles
And you must abandon your desires
Nothing is yours or will be yours
Leave behind your attachments
Think of yourself as nothing
To learn how to live freely
Not for pleasure, or gratification
Or for security, think of yourself
As part of everything, see everyone
As your friend, that is the only
Way to live for the new world
That has yet to be born.

121

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/on-a-country-road-484936598

2. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Love-Forever-472864035

The Soul Achieves Herself without effort


118

Gradual is our relationship
with the grace behind nature
another spectral October Fall
how the wizard sun confines

and the flamingo sunsets wave goodbye
the fires ebb, the flowers cease
their sport, the stars wink
at snowflakes on their fall

to carpet a sparkling web
sapphire moments drift by
at dusk in the cities
there is a soft glimmer

in the streets, it is cold outside
as we bow one by one into
our brief solitude, with visions
to guide us for the labours of tomorrow

paralyzed by the savings of gold
or the lack of savings in our bank accounts
the wisdom of life is a brief release
the details we once scrutinized

no longer seem so important after all
to live a good life, means different things
at separate points in our story
and nothing in the end intoxicates

like the God neurochemical
call it what you will, the spirit
lives on after all these subplots
the search for a diviner brand

of metaphysics, philosophy, utopia
until there are no visitors to our soul
but a diviner truth, a more united feeling
gradual is our relationship
with what’s beyond the scope of years.

119

Photo Courtesy:

1. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Be-on-the-road-with-warmly-thoughts-482560577
2. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Deer-Collaboration-483167431

Daybreak at Postmodern


109

In the suburb of the absolute
I’m born a baby of silence
With the shrieks of the birds of creation

In my soul, I belong to burnt-out afternoons
Of love in being on a yellow star
In some green obscurity of history
I thought beyond portraits
Of will and admired the beauty

Of the known and unknown worlds
Nothing was alien, everyone
Was familiar, strangers like friends

In the bed of music I awoke
To time, and the immaculate extensions
Of how energy converses
Like sex or a transparency of union
With experience, identification became

A sort of mantra of immortal speech
I imagined how it was to be
Everything I saw, people, objects

Celestial events, I became more
Than a cell, greater than a self
I wanted to know what it was like
To live in a living temple
Of the bundle of all worlds

The ultimate expression of collective
Consciousness, wrapped in some cosmic radiance
I knew I would outlive cities, alphabets

And wander in forests, and visit stars
I would cease living in shadow
And remember lineage, descendant divinity
The instantaneous future that is
Everything, the identification
With all that has or will ever evolve.

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AGNES CECILE
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Between Silence and Music


72

I will defy the movement of language
With syllables soft before the snow
For Autumn in the fewest chosen words
Along lines of simple alphabets

In the palm of my listening
I will observe you walk as a poem
Skips across ethereally this earth
With colors and bodies of Christmas

An instantaneous impression of beauty
I will sing a lullaby to the irreproachable sky
And kiss the poem-greeting letters
That dissolve as a soul among the trees

And the centre of music
That is a living expression of the times
Today the sun comes out in your poem
And I listen for the poem I will write in reply

I will be a hero of a recluse today, again
With an inner smile of jewel-pointed clarity
That the imagination is a universal thing
The night’s sheerness of black gardens

A voice from which religions spring
Spiritual movement completes itself
In an intuitive release of meaning
A letting go of the sadness of having come

And gone, like death, poetry takes me there
As a river of music, entering my blood
Chilling me with a serotonin symphony
The joy of being here, the glances and reflections

Of existence, mirroring poetry
Between silence and music
The snow and sun, men and women
The rain and drums stalk my fantasies.

Photo Courtesy:
AGNES CECILE
https://www.facebook.com/agnescecile
http://agnes-cecile.deviantart.com/gallery/23399055/Featured
https://www.youtube.com/user/agnescecile
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