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Dear ghost,
If you are under the same sky between the mountains, then if you had somehow happen to look at the sky. It was blue with only few fluffy clouds gathered above those mountains. The bowl of sky was so endearingly blue. I thought it looked very very close and sometime, very very far. The sun warping me in its arms has tugged me in its war with winter. Now I wish the winter never comes.
Yours even as I fear to be.