Am I being charmed? Have the flutey tendrils been so apt to confine me with such shallow effort? Or is it just the distraction of a wandering mind? The hollow musings of a weakened foundation that a casual breath could spread across 1,000 continents. But if I am limited to this cold shaky body, let the summer be a warm one. And let the sun wither my body just as this slow moving city has withered my mind and heart.
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