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anziexile
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In gentle hands, rising over waves of wind to lands anew we fly. And from so high we are as small as frost on the windowsill.
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Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 2:58 PM UTC
anziexile
Frost
In gentle hands, rising over waves of wind to lands anew we fly. And from so high we are as small as frost on the windowsill.
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