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￭ Epistle of a millennial
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I watch as people fall on the ground,
brown leaves of wilting full...
for you only,
naked in front of nobody...
I wait for you at home
where war is happening,
not in the field...
I wait for you in the full sight of everyone
with my own gaze burning
from their eyes...
If you don't come to me
even if I am waiting curved behind the tact,
even if I smile
of ripe apple,
in the winter from a distance
watching your burning strongholds
I am carved in salt,
tasting like the blue sea in the middle of summer
I am waiting for you during autumn
among the withered leaves...
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