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■ The oak
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this territory is wild, we don’t see how it happens to feel
the missing link of our silent future, tell me how it is like to be you, what are your lips murmuring in sleep about the childhood that brightens under the waters, step by step are we approaching a long journey, lions are begging for grass and we fall over our own bodies with a deep remorse. no tear is worth sleeping on the book of change when birds are keeping the sun in their wings, a long story however that falls unto us as naked truths. every encounter is a miracle of being. no one can stare at the light as it bites from the earth. and you suddenly speak of the unknown. who are you, caring for mirrors on the coast? never say something bad on the dust! your hands are keeping people in slow motion, in your chest the moon is hard bitten. but we never forget names, as they retain a soft presence, even if one finds hurting the chance of losing traces. tell me about your name.
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