The mist on the mountains lifts, ghostly greens glimmer, a new day darkens the valley far below, my fingers tracing the high ridge that runs above your eyes: a sudden swoop of wing and song.
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The mist on the mountains lifts, ghostly greens glimmer, a new day darkens the valley far below, my fingers tracing the high ridge that runs above your eyes: a sudden swoop of wing and song.

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