And she
falls off from the mount.
The tall
story that she believed was just a fiction.
She couldn’t
hold the white lie.
And she
hop’s off the mount again.
Broken
hip, Bleeding horn.
She weeps,
shedding tears, keening.
And
she hop’s off the mount again.
But her
bohemian soul still stood there.
Hushed
as halcyon era and idyllic.
Goosebumps.
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