AWA

I. Symphony Fantastique, Op 14: I

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  • 2019.09.23
  • 13:42
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Pour on the rum on the wound and send kisses through a postcard the winter has come straight to the bones wile you're still rubbing your eyes let the wax dry on the pulps prayers are becoming courses salt-away heart/cuttlebone knife ...Nobody loves as I love you tonight! Far away from here where the sky is getting clear the blueberries float in the outdoor washtubs and my hampered fingers as a compass without a needle it will never end looking for your hands far-from-here-so-far-away far-from-you-far-far-away over the foam of the waves the tail of the whale over and over and more far away!

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