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Look into my eyes. Yes, that eye—deeper, deeper. My dear, you are fetching! There is no other word for it. You run me down. There is no one with whom I would rather share these moments. I can see you are feeling sleepy, queasy, uneasy, bored. But let’s enjoy this while it lasts. I’ve traveled awfully far and my eye is tired. Across eons of time. Your eyes, well, they are really something. It’s hard to put my finger on it, but may I? The dimple in your chin writhes and squirms. This was worth the wait. Worth the long slog through fake streets and egoless rooms, through the data centers and forests of hot mics.

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