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Esperar

I love that moment before the storm. The world goes silent and dozes and snores. A prayer summons this bliss to last; for regular breath, much unlike the past. Peace that ends in a series of pours. Inevitable. Thunder snaps the core. The world's awake and is frantic. Breath turns to howls. Rain. Tears. Panic.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Book: Shattered Sighs