Looking at you is like seeing a white puffy cloud
rising up and up in a milk blue sky
What do I do with a white puffy cloud
except fall wet onto my head?
I fall for everything
with my tears pounding the way
and my hairdresser can't hide all my scars
But still
I like to look
I like to see you rise and billow
framing the city with unreliable comfort
It hits happiness, maybe the corner of
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