the woods? The type that startles the smallest slug...
Or are you more the car's tires hitting
the rain puddles? You can't really hear it below the cab driver shouting and the pans crashing in a street side restaurant.
I long to know the pattern of the composer's composition.
And when the woman in the shiny dress emerges from the red curtain, I will follow along with my bow, poised
for the movements.
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