Eliosy is about to come.
I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling along the floors of silent seas. And I will put out my feet in air, and let the pink come all over my toes. The radio is wailing out its La Valse d'Amelie. I wearing a white shirt and denims. I will not bathe till I set my feet in air, my toe pointing at the spray of the sea, a blue book on my lap, and a cigarette between my fingers.
I'm swirling, I'm swirling.
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