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1968
i stand behind trees to escape the whipping wind, but when you're my tree i wait to be blown into the depths of your sweet-smelling coat. my pockets are canyon-deep with holes like stars, losing everything along the way. wait for the asphalt ocean to turn into cold, iron waves and smile because your eyes are warm. the colour of brandy that warms your mouth and heart, and doesn't stop. when the moon breathes the north onto us, you breath life into me. making its way over my lips and through my hair. will our house fall down on us? lay our lives aside on our last night and let it crumble on our faces. swim through the galaxies we never saw before while we search for hands in the sea of bedsheets. will you write me from where you're going? can we both go home? i promise you'll love me when we can't find the way.
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