Stormy days bordered despair. As an evil tale. Drains the breaths. Awkward switch. The day receives from the night. Hanging in the Ferris wheel dipping slowly into the ground. In a moment we will look everything from above. A privilege that you lose in the cathode. Until you stop recognizing when you’re up or down. It’s that moment when the sounds stop reaching your ears. The vibration. It becomes color caress prayer. It is the beat of your heart.
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