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Nov 2017
Only imagined the moving,
dreamed the breathing
for I was walled up alive
beneath the body of life,
its womb was my tomb,
its stasis was my shroud,
yet, my immurement
is come to an end now, though,
for I can witness the rising
of the dark harvest moons
under your eyes.
Diána Bósa
Written by
Diána Bósa  Budapest
(Budapest)   
  424
     ---, --- and LeV3e
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