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Aug 15
The city of flint, light on my spark,
call me home there, where under
the rubble of a northern void, under
the weight of suspended jardines,
beats up your exhausted heart.

Call me for fun, catch me on hello, promise me your stars and then
never leave me quietly alone,
while you are still dancing pretty
stretched out in the nightly air.
Written by
vendi  Vienna
(Vienna)   
71
   Dissident
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