Feather Breaths

The lullaby is sung.

The circadian rhythm of the body is oscillating from note to note.
Night and day, turn into shapeless melodies of a mind and body you once thought you owned. 

* 

Time is slipping away through every beat of the drum, through every ludicrous dream crack, through the washing waves of the pentagram.
Underneath it all, the endless spiralling of the porcelain-like dancers reminds you of everything.

*

Nothing was lost nor found.


You.

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