I can taste the smoke, feel it between my fingertips,
The contrasting moss beneath my feet,
And my livid sighs floating right below the cedars,
In the cold, salty november heat.
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The Smoke.
I can taste the smoke, feel it between my fingertips,
The contrasting moss beneath my feet,
And my livid sighs floating right below the cedars,
In the cold, salty november heat.
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Raeee
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