godmund's words


 

so tired meek flighty firm nothing and burned...
Till she dies.
Little orangic phantom, tantric.
"the trees slow sway to divert the devil mans heat "
Till she dies.
Folded peace knows its trap. you sedat, then you sigh forever.
along right and left and dawn and past
while drinking flute in trint.
and devil man felt defeat. But then one day a see-saw play
Burdens, flat
I let the world look to you.
Donna sways and only sees the Mediochre yellow


So you can glide with the rest of things.
She smelts her shoreside nest

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