There is this innate urge to let go, to lay aloof underneath the sky and await the morning bliss to caress me back to sleep, until it repeats.

Until I feel full, full of the charisma falling from the stars, full of the cold warmth the night blues have to offer. You never feel full, do you?

There’s this want, to not stop, to not hold and embrace the tint you carry in your heart with each passing night. Orange or yellow or shiny golden — a tint that you carry and make your own. Don’t forget to notice it, don’t forget to embrace it and don’t forget to breath, with each passing night.

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