Galaxies are born like exploding rose petals. I can't seem to forget about them. I can't stop shaking. I can't seem to calm myself. Through the distance I peered through my kaleidoscope, she was a still life hanging by her throat. Nostalgia bites my neck like you never will. Escape with whimpers until I've distilled. Your eyelashes scraped "it's been too long…" expressions off of me. Thank you so much. Hypothermia. Excuses I'd love to believe. A long cold winter in the company of this degenerative disease. I wasn't present at this conception. I thought I dreamt it. And now, you'll never shake for me again.
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