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Kyle Johnson Sep 2018
Fallen dusty leaves dance foolishly through the fridget artic wind.

Moonlight so full it pours silence in the shadows that follow in meadowing footsteps.

A calming essence rings through the body to the beating heart.

No time. No beginning nor end.

A breath travels to the lifeless edge of an overgrown detached road.

A shiver in the spine.

— The End —