Dora the Implorer

The zipper spilled a watery nun on the ground.

Her presence demanded steps of inspiration,
groans towards the heavenly helicopters,
and for the father to relieve the fevers, the chills,
but she evaporated and left winter turf,
so he clenched his hand and demanded milk, spat it out,
and sobbed where her liquid bosom had lain. 

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