At the great wood's mouth, By the deep cave's door. I listened to something I had heard before.
The wood's mouth. In a field I am the absence. Wherever I am I am what is missing. And in silence I observe
When I walk I part the air And always the air moves in. To fill the spaces Where my body has been...
I close my eyelids. There was nothing more to say. I've seen it all before. But, I find comfort in silence, Summer melacholia. The air shivered against my skin. Dark leaned into my eyes.
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