Winter is so fitting for her
The coldness, the aloofness, the purity, the taintedness
It is where she feels at home
When is cold you might see her walking
Seeing the world, feeling the breeze, eating the feelings
Drowning in the music, helping it become a part of her
Some other times you might just see her there
Sitting in a corner of the St Francis of Assisi Church
Naked, letting her feelings breathe, letting go of all her strength
Becoming the sound and the wave, becoming nothing and everything,
becoming free.
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