concave window called
I like the sound of church bells calling.
I've never been a believer that rattle yet parsimonious
brings me to ancient times, rural and faith
field of bread yesterday and harvest
black scarves and beads and loss thanks.
Recalls the need to take a snooze time and meditation, and although it seems curious
strikes me muezzin singing quietly
dumb and just because no one comes to your call.
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