And a man, holding a shield.
There is an angel between them, pouring water on the dirty shields that fell to the floor.
They can only find each other through Distances.
I go away,
I look back.
I leave footprints in the sand: signs of thoughts that felt like warmth.
The field is too vast and the sea is too far.
So i go again.
The footprints washed away.
The warmth taken by the northern wind.
The man swallowed by his field.
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