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Street without streetlights, not a star in the dark sky, alone with my thoughts. Breath flows out slowly, the bright moon behind a cloud, mist on my glasses. Taken together inconsequential thoughts flare to dystopia. The moon in the trees transforms to a watching eye, knowing all, and none. Street without streetlights, the gentle sound of my shoes against the pavement.
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Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 5:21 PM UTC
Diaspora
Street without streetlights, not a star in the dark sky, alone with my thoughts. Breath flows out slowly, the bright moon behind a cloud, mist on my glasses. Taken together inconsequential thoughts flare to dystopia. The moon in the trees transforms to a watching eye, knowing all, and none. Street without streetlights, the gentle sound of my shoes against the pavement.
diaskeaus
Written by
40/Other/San Francisco Bay
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 5:21 PM UTC
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