There are times when reality comes closer:
In a field, in the actual air,
I stepped carefully, like a new-shod horse,
A raw tumultuous girl
Making my way over wet stones.
And then I ran -
Ran ahead of myself,
Across a field, into a little wood.
And there I stayed until the day burned down.
In a field, in the actual air,
I stepped carefully, like a new-shod horse,
A raw tumultuous girl
Making my way over wet stones.
And then I ran -
Ran ahead of myself,
Across a field, into a little wood.
And there I stayed until the day burned down.
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