The skies resembled the embodiment of sadness in its pale distinction, and the enlightened sun spoke to him, but he gave her no sign of attentive consciousness.
Silence gently kissed him on the lips, as if she had pulled off the perfect emotion of a master thespian, playing the part of empathy in pantomimed winds...
the light revealed truth, uncovering the man behind the mask who shelters his being in mysterious roles that even he cannot define at times, and the absence of air had him bound in contemplation, anticipating its arrival.
he cared not if she graced him in the detail of a dramatic entrance, nor the genuine reverence of an exotic dance. All he cared about, is if she would even arrive at all, so that high tension feigns as nonexistent and he can once again, feel at ease.…
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