she runs her hand through the failing silver tinsel, across the milky window panes holding against the wind,turns twice to the synths from the speakers, saying only that she loves this song, and start to dance...
...like slow motion leaving me, she starts to sway nearer and nearer, white dress too thin for the season, defeated balloons parting like oceans beneath her feet, she looks like an angel, so beautiful in repose...
...i miss the way she sighed herself to sleep...
City of Music: Gayngs from MPLS.TV on Vimeo.
gayngs - self titled
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