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I work for the lady with the vermillion lipstick. We talk about beauty, elegance and style over iced coffees after hours in her club. I don't know what my job is. I think I'm just supposed to appreciate the fetished female form. And watch her load cigaret
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Remembrance of their wool trousers still lingers on the bluestem.
I walk their streets at night to watch the curtains for wind.
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