Little grains of crazy sand fall in slow motion through the world's gigantic hour glass, making snows seem electric & water all-powerful. Your silver wingtips slice the future skies & make my atmosphere go crazy, each little moment, each tiny hit. Last night I awoke to the sound of crazy winds strafing my lonely house, circles under my eyes, bad dreams knocking. Come soon, gekkie! Time winds down like false alarms, a siren signalling the all-clear. This constant fight against desperation. Pitched battles in the early morning. It hadn't rained. Fall, crazy sands, fall!


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