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as though an evenfall that was in the margin, as though the soulful valediction after a memorialised chronicle. the time seeps through sappily as i visualise this: a terminology when we’re lounging quietly in the balcony / a portmanteau of clutters in the apartment’s drawer / and the different fragrance of perfumery cruse we bought from the downtown, mercantile house. however, this is not a fictitious narrative one must be able to disregard. thus, how would you preserve every paragraph into the nook of brooklyn bridge? * 📖
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