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■ Escapism
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I've heard the flutter of wings
rapping at the windows of my soul. It was raining outside, she was sad, cold and alone. And I couldn't decide if I should let in this dove. I've opened the window before and what came through wasn't love. She looked inside then with her big, dreamy eyes. She could see in me through my disguise. And I couldn't say NO. She needed the heat just as much as I needed to get on my feet, to go to the window, and open it wide, to let her fly in and be part of my life.
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