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dalispero
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starlight
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over 8 years ago
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616
Dream Poetry

No more long hair.

She gave birth in the cold... alone.

I look up to see the night sky and breathe in.

I look down to the bowl of womb water in my hands.

I have to dilute it to touch it.

The womb.

This thing is cold and hard now... this thing that I have

bled out of her.

(This is as far as I remember it. It was spoken by a man and I remember being in a setting full of ice and snow.)

cold
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