Critically, she stared at her own features. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. And then, as she answered nothing, “Seeing that we are lovers. ” She found herself trying to remember all the old tunes her mother had taught her, as they were bright as little stars.
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