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  • The fall.
    23 2 1

    there is this rhapsody. running to you. Like the times you flee. with your childish prattles. to bring your fall;from a place inside. Clung to my moon. this minute; would be a tide. because honey, there is a void inside. Your fall, had come; this infinite. now is the season, for the tides. to unravel you...

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