the night is too beautiful to be black.

but when she felt nothing
slip
through her
hands, she asked
me not to
leave; not to leave
her
t her.e
in the calm.


the irreversible quiet.


there is something in a scream
that deafens a mind, and her scream was
not the exception, but perfection
and it was
only the beginning of
the beginning of
the end.



the night was too beautiful to be



black.

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