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	<title>Comments on: Dripping with Desire</title>
	<link>http://interpretation.scene360.com/contemporary/21/</link>
	<description>From Renaissance to Pop Art. See, feel, and interpret!</description>
	<pubDate>Wed, 20 Aug 2008 20:33:07 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>By: Moy</title>
		<link>http://interpretation.scene360.com/contemporary/21/#comment-5217</link>
		<author>Moy</author>
		<pubDate>Wed, 05 Sep 2007 21:34:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid>http://interpretation.scene360.com/contemporary/21/#comment-5217</guid>
		<description>La perdida de la virginidad.

Translation: "The loss of one's virginity."</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>La perdida de la virginidad.</p>
<p>Translation: &#8220;The loss of one&#8217;s virginity.&#8221;</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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	<item>
		<title>By: Talan</title>
		<link>http://interpretation.scene360.com/contemporary/21/#comment-4808</link>
		<author>Talan</author>
		<pubDate>Sat, 18 Aug 2007 23:28:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid>http://interpretation.scene360.com/contemporary/21/#comment-4808</guid>
		<description>I enjoyed the read.</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I enjoyed the read.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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	<item>
		<title>By: S. Kartsonis</title>
		<link>http://interpretation.scene360.com/contemporary/21/#comment-4564</link>
		<author>S. Kartsonis</author>
		<pubDate>Thu, 09 Aug 2007 19:19:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid>http://interpretation.scene360.com/contemporary/21/#comment-4564</guid>
		<description>What heaven have we here: the weather a forever sundown of roses and honey. And Honey, believe: this sweetness sticks to us, for years or years enough to call it a lifetime already. There is no death this dusk, no ending, no love that doesn't reply. Just a woman, some creatures, the rose rain, the selves on the ground, the selves in flight. Our days are a children's book. Our nights divine.</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>What heaven have we here: the weather a forever sundown of roses and honey. And Honey, believe: this sweetness sticks to us, for years or years enough to call it a lifetime already. There is no death this dusk, no ending, no love that doesn&#8217;t reply. Just a woman, some creatures, the rose rain, the selves on the ground, the selves in flight. Our days are a children&#8217;s book. Our nights divine.</p>
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