Leaving my home shores and north winds,
Brittle maps of my
Little girl, it’s time to go,
they’re waiting for you now,
down
So poor moon,
With a cursed hand I rent my days,
Lost
Every breath he took stirred wings and motes to life,
called
You say there’s no sign of change
but I keep my
The cold came without warning,
the pale light that fell,
the winds
This pulse that made you fight upstream
sends the eels to
From the harbour hill to where the crescent curls,
the black
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