It was spoken in the wind,between the fabric,breathing in reservations through the pores like red
wine during summertime
sadness.
Far away, and forever,the wind blows
like symphonic rythem,steady the
tone,steady the crescendo.
extreme pressure on toes,I'm in acceleration time, but,my mind is slowed, in pained space and there is nothing but blackness and distance stars,crying fast like Gods worst
torment.

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