The spirit outside the window of her eyes knocked at her lips, a fluttered sigh, a cloud of smoke. She rose. Buttons of her soul fell. Scattered. Naked. She ran. The spirit knocked. Knocked again. She sent her smile to heaven. Searching the cure, the moon gazed at her. A grey palpable world invaded her nude spirit. The spirit did not knock. It now fed winter to the buttons. And she sighed again. Her voice coiled round her bosom.
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