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blueberries.

blueberries.

winter sleep;

those hands are right there, reaching the top of your head and pressing you under the ice. i wonder how peaceful it is to just be, to breathe in between your senses and emerge from the depths of these uncertainties.

i babble and tremble and fall down instead.

no thread of thought seems to light up to warm my cold hands, to clarify my words, to slow down my shaky breathing. everyone is asleep, leaving this town to freeze.

pretty silence