The sea has no songs;
the wind does not remember you;
the moon does not understand anything.
you fear and your aversion too
are perfectly fine.
if you cry or you don't, doesn't matter.
just leave it-we are at home already.
white smokes in the fields.
In the bundled wreckageglow and clamour united.
Our sacrifice has lured fearout of its ambush.
Everything resounds
like the space inside the swinging bell.!
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