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Sep 2020
Sipping twisted teas underneath twisted trees.
Sap dripping off maples turning into crystal, cicadas vibrating something blissful
I could feel myself walking on violin strings.
Plink plink plink
Words flowing out as soon as I catch a think
A new golden horizon
Changing your world at the brink of a double blink
Birds singing on a Carnegie, that's where I wanna be.
birch sap
Written by
Alan Abstract  23/M
(23/M)   
272
 
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