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It still pours..
Rain and it's smell
A few strands of my wet hair
Sticks to me as if it's soul depends on me
The music being the blanket
Covers my thoughts in place
Distant sound of chattering..
My eyes...
A few strands of my wet hair
Sticks to me as if it's soul depends on me
The music being the blanket
Covers my thoughts in place
Distant sound of chattering..
My eyes...
