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■ Escapism
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no more drops falling from above
the sphere we stand in seizes us protecting the flesh not to be twisted by the paths of the snow flakes our warm gasp is the spring for the fog that we’ll drink forth in the final life – sum of the souls for each moment of breath no more skins, nor old bones the threads continuously spin from one point, the infinite ghost reflects in the mirror the future *** stop smothering me!
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