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Tracey Chan
Tracey Chan • 1 year ago

Clandestine stairwells filled his mind with compass rose emotions. He had mapped out all his energies in awknowledged undertones of conversation with a woman living a mirror image blank recognizance and laughter most afternoons. Her voice was clear, her lips didn't move as his thoughts wandered to the seasons on the moon and he felt a lightness eclipse his past eclectic discretion. The air near disappeared and he found he was rising to meet the solace he'd spoken of as now his final obsession.