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    <title>The ocean overflows with camels | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
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            <h1 class="title">The ocean overflows with camels</h1>
            

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            <p>We found your <a href="lovesong.html">shirt</a> deep in the dark water,<br />caught on the clothesline of sleeping pills.<br />Your head on the shore was streaming tears<br />like sleeves or the coronas of saints saved<br />from fire. The burning bush began crying<br />like a child who misses his mother. Traffic<br />slammed shut like an eye. God’s mean <a href="roughgloves.html">left hook</a><br />knocked us out, and we began swimming.<br />Bruises bloomed like algae on a lake.<br />Your <a href="angeltoabraham.html">father</a> beat your chest and screamed<br />for someone to open a window. The air<br />stopped breathing. Fish clogged its gills.<br />Birds sang too loudly, trying to drown out<br />your father’s cries, but all their sweetness<br />was not enough. No polite noises will be made<br />anymore, he told us, clawing your breastbone.<br />He opened your heart to air again. Camels<br />flowed from you both like water from the rock.<br />God spoke up, but nobody listened to him.<br />We hung you up on the line to dry.</p>
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