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typeracer

Pit Stop
Racer the (sw3ather)
Race Number 148
Date Wed, 18 Dec 2019 23:23:15
Speed 75 WPM Try to beat?
Accuracy 99.1%
Rank 1st place (out of 5)

Text typed:

I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, how you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me, and parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, and reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
— (book) by Walt Whitman (see stats)

Typing Review: