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i like it when the cold january breeze bites into my skin making its coldness aware i like it when the cold january breeze plays with my loose curls who has bound themselves free from the rubber band, i have secured my hair in
i like it when the cold january breeze dances the dried up leaves in its quiet rhythm only audible to them i like it when the cold january breeze becomes so misty that i can see my breath and imitate smoking on an invisible stick i like it
l like the cold january breeze but not the month of january it reminds me of a beginning of something which i am not ready for
