One life -
An opened book she exposed.
Gouls
Make me read
With blurred black glasses
I never ended their misty tale.
Nor have I ink to drag them to an end,
Never will I have it,
Cause their (cota~) is in another library.
Their pale blue shivers of mist
Have always encrypted the tale.
New pergaments knock on my pencil's door.
~18.00-18.30
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