No posts
No signs
No sonnets
No ocean
No gloom
No turning
No meaning
No story
No land
No loom
No present
No sleep
No secret
No business
No order
No breeze
No standing
No knowing
No dreaming
No sequel
No echo
No moon
I remember what happened in elementary school even if you don't Fiddles arrange like blood clots The flutes futility stands You hear, y...
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