When the wind blows, and the bows shake, and the leaves quake,
it's as if it's raining a little bit harder.
And there is that dark silhouette behind the buildings,
that giant of a tree,
and the gray nebulous behind it. Wires stringing in and out.
Puff of smoke, my legs begin to quiver, and it's time to go in.
It is plain.
No thinking, except for that.
And I like it
just
like that.
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