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I can not move,
I feel so brittle,
I stare at an empty cup,
Resting on the table
that can not move
And
brittle too ,
with the windows open.
A train cry ,
A little rain ,
A quiet lightening ,
I get up,
less lonely;
With the windows open .
To see ,
clouds ,
Raindrops
and
little intimacy;
In the shadows of the...
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