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Feb 10. 2026
I wear no skin yet bruise at dusk, I swallow stars and leak out blue. Birds borrow me without a sound, Storms write their tempers on my face. Iām always overhead, never held.
Feb 10. 2026
I wear no skin yet bruise at dusk, I swallow stars and leak out blue. Birds borrow me without a sound, Storms write their tempers on my face. Iām always overhead, never held.