Remembered day

Of you there is nothing but the unflattering calmer of an undefined evening with the first few dews of intoxicated scrambles and the discarded windings of an initial bell hammering for our waiter. The noises you flutter between breezes of shushed away timid concerns, of whether if my palm isn’t as sore as yesterday. The cruel pit of pink that lay within the yearns, it seems untouched and known that it scattered away within the glides of faulty drains. There was kept a saying to you I made, one day there will be I to say what you may.

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