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Jun 2020
We are thoughts.
Pulses.
Somehow subjectivities.
Fleeting, yet,
once dissolved,
never tarred by the oblivion
as we stay till forever in the air
as intimacies,
apprehensions,
and those gut knittances
got by the living
when they sense
and as much suddenly
can’t explain.
While walking Toruń’ streets and wrestling with the heat and perceiving justly each persona
Dante Rocío
Written by
Dante Rocío  Agender/Польша
(Agender/Польша)   
145
     Dante Rocío and Eman
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