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#wisper
I remember how I miss this time of night. When the lights are stretched, all the world looks black and white. There are winds that don't blow, but cling and sounds that don't break, but fall and voices that don't call out, but trickle along. I smell the murmur of cars as they sift through the dark and I catch flying shadows as they chase shadows that hide in the silence for warmth. This time of night I remember there are things that listen without hearing and there are things that whisper without speaking. It is cold, but only to the touch. It is dark, but only to the reader. It is quiet, but only to the sleeper. It is the death of day and it is dignified ever deeper.
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Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
Moonless Mondays
My darling stickers, What whispers you've heard, What secrets you hold, I shall never know, Stick with me, And I shall stick with you...
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Nov 2, 2024
Nov 2, 2024 at 1:11 PM UTC
Sticking to a Secret