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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