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I really love the sound of ice cracking on puddles in early spring and late autumn. And my father used to have an owl while growing up. His father used to work at a coal mine. Sometimes in my sleep the sun rises from a different shore and I have black eyes.

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  • oh tiny pebbles of snow
  • where do you go, where do you go?
nov 10 2011 ∞
nov 10 2011 +