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Weekly Contest #295
Surrender to the light pouring in through every window, to the sun that warms my chilled skin. Spring is hot and cold, and I feel the same way as my blood is heated by the light that it cannot see. Silence is underneath everything, it holds a cold decomposing smell, like Earth is exhaling its ancient voice. It knows everything that I do, everything I have forgotten. It returns to me in death. It starts with my toes, it’s beautiful not to feel them, and reminds me of dipping them into the cerulean sea. It’s strange how nothing always reminds ...
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