Blown by the wind light light up our souls.
bright white foam.
Broken wave on the rocks or as smooth as the body of the jellyfish.
At night a pale yellow moon, gold-coated lie,
berth in the cockpit or on a bench under miioni stars.
will return the sun to the rhythm of our existence that
first of all this remains motionless.
the first gust of wind across the canvas to shore isseremo intoxicate even
only half of the air node. With our eyes on the horizon to look
a good reason not to return to earth ...
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