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Sleep White Winter
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Translucent Haze
Off-yellow ceiling lamp I'm staring at the fan Keeping my focus on Just a single blade
I left the headlights on The car in the driveway Not that it matters I'm not going out today
A bed of thorns I am nested in fault Clenching orchid petals Stirred in her ardor She is a moor Exhumed from veiled roots That I shall be entombed
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