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March and December
There is something in the salty breezes
of March and quivering breaths of December,
An echo of wounds----
Drowning me whole in pain yet every year.
In the dusk I remain, Rewriting verses...
of March and quivering breaths of December,
An echo of wounds----
Drowning me whole in pain yet every year.
In the dusk I remain, Rewriting verses...
