This old window is the perfect place. It is cold here; the warmth is in the other room. I will sit, and think, look outside. Fog is hanging over the place where there is life, it is all white through this old glass that bends the lines of what is straight. This white from the snow calms me down, it blends in the horizon of my thoughts, I stare outside. It is quiet now.
Your words are melting my heart, so beautiful.
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Thank you for the compliment…
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