'love the air momentarily, as it rises and picks up the clouds, caressing their fleeting identity like gods charmed by the power of a mortal; when the clouds dissapear, it will be as if my love was just a passing thought, filled with ghosts, and a silent vain beauty, written in a code of illusion broken by reality's irrelevance. Broken down and withered, the air picks up again touching the clouds once more inside a physical garden of eden, in mind and dream like a torturous vein that flows to the heart until it bursts - silence, the sky is empty'
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