The night is an hour away
I can already hear the moons first whimper
Preparing to tell the sorrow of her scars
while amused stars
hurried and unconcerned with impressionable things
will not console her
I understand
In freckles full of silence
of barren harvests
broken sequences
incongruous tears
and the motionless acquiescences
days do not know..
I can already hear the moons first whimper
Preparing to tell the sorrow of her scars
while amused stars
hurried and unconcerned with impressionable things
will not console her
I understand
In freckles full of silence
of barren harvests
broken sequences
incongruous tears
and the motionless acquiescences
days do not know..
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