"and when all the world had fallen asleep, that's when she came alive with her heart beating thunderously and her wings flapping furiously. the winds spoke lullabies to her but she would have none of it. "the moon is mine," she cried as she rose to the heavens. the clouds rearranged themselves in her presence, for her ephemeral light drove them mad with fantasies. she left a faint aroma of sonatas in her wake as she collected chains of falling stars. she wasn't a fairy. she was dream."
(nyc)
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