cristina_crow
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I open the atlas to solitary spheres,
thousand maps drawn with blood.
Subconsciously descending into the context
of these archaic pergaments,
as the moon rises to release me.
Esteemed emotions.
thousand maps drawn with blood.
Subconsciously descending into the context
of these archaic pergaments,
as the moon rises to release me.
Esteemed emotions.
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