In the darkness of my dreams, I see a pattern. In an echo, a longing, I cry for something I cannot reach. A tiny object, a flimsy piece of paper that has escaped from my heart to float away from me, always out of reach. The gust picks it up, cradles it, and carries it…
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Elusive Opportunity
In the darkness of my dreams, I see a pattern. In an echo, a longing, I cry for something I cannot reach. A tiny object, a flimsy piece of paper that has escaped from my heart to float away from me, always out of reach. The gust picks it up, cradles it, and carries it…