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freeVia3
A ghost passes through you. I feel it and I scream. Search lights pry at my dreams. This is my memory. // A lonely series repeats without even a pause. Floating weightless, uninterrupted until I exhale. // Ghosts have no shadows; they must conspire for even one yearning for a solid heart. I feel an angel present. // Glowing, drifting, I remember tomorrow. Spin drift snow screen floating down in an endless spiral from above.
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