we met one strange summerin a regular tangle of sticky websyou had the air of angels sweet but I–drowned with the damned spiritsin lava oceans fearing your–foreign static frequency and grey-green eyes(I swear they are even if you–think otherwise): stormscalm ones, calmer than my–raging coals, empty and deadyou speak of souls like you believealways an optimist in pessimisticskin of ivory and titanium mesh…

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