by the deep cave's door.
I had heard before.
The wood's mouth.
In a field I am the absence.
I am what is missing.
and always the air moves in.
where my body has been...
I close my eyelids.
There was nothing more to say.
I've seen it all before.
summer melacholia.
The air shivered against my skin.
Dark leaned into my eyes.
Those threatening clouds.
The sweet music of the summer rain.
The mist in early hours.
The dominant winds.
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