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identified because you carried the original in your saddle bag, i, always there, you believed i somehow became when you noticed. yet i dwelt here digesting in the stomachs of deer, bear, and medicine women - since the dawn of time. but now i have a name, they harvest me, for a price - and though my purpose diverges from my cousin, valuable get the merchants sling me as an alternative, competitive market, they coo. and yes your heart races because my properties make your blood run hot, not clear. the profiteer versus the healer: i hope you die, trapper. have some more. i am here rooting. for you, my love: lick it clean. โดฒ.

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they warn everyone about me in the trade commissions, the medical establishment. you, my templar, my tempest, skeptical of the rich men topping evidence you witness yourself, giants carrying girls to the stars - to live like a flame instead of ashes, acrid. "there is no evidence" in "science" they suit and tie, yet an empire built on digging roots for the hurricanes apothecaries, grandmothers, herbalists; living into biblical ages. garden hands, you could fight the masses, but when you believe your own eyes my inflated price disappears. for you: i am free because you are fair. live, my love. burn. โดฒ.