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Victoria Aug 2020
The smoke climbs the air
It climbs the green
It climbs his cheeks.
Like ink in water it dances, weightless
Absorbing my thoughts
It races up to the skies
Dispersed in the stars,
it kisses the black cloak and sighs as the darkness envelops it.
It passes through the thin film to another world
It becomes a whisper.

— The End —