acceptingmybiggestflawmakesmeflawless
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I like lightly lit rooms, the way the sun would dance to the tune of the spinning earth.
Yet we as people would turn away to such a sight, hide from the light and ignore its worth.
I. Nigoda
charcoal wings charred to a crisp
succumbed to surreptitious marauders
intruders chipping down cerebral walls that hiss
