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  • The light flashes.
    Red ... red ... red ...
    Burning into the circumference of my rhetina.

    The black beyond the one window only living with that light. Intervalistic & patient.
    Before brandishing my own reflection upon that void in it's moments of death.

    The back wall.
    Cycling.
    Red & ominous - black & dead.

    Her breath lives in that darkness. And dies out in the crimson.

    And there was never any room for us.
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