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Mar 2021
The wind whips through my opened windows.
Greedy. Hungry.
Snatching at my hair, my book's pages.
Yearning for something to hold on to permanently.
So,
I let it take my hand.
Suddenly, out the window, over the trees
we become one.
never to be apart again.
Rea
Written by
Rea  19/F
(19/F)   
108
   Bogdan Dragos
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