Long has sleep been adjourned. It is the ungodly hour of 6 but matters as pressing on the heart as this charge to be forged before the corruption of memory. Still the form of her tears play in the mind. For as long as it was allowed the languid ventures at revelation has always concluded in defeat.
Stupor was the state. Unrehearsed, unpremeditated. The facade of pretention has disintegrated yielding to transparency. Words are void in this presence, your lament sufficing.
Dear Friend,Thank You for everything.
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