There is a fine line between sleep and wakefulness. A vanishing but rich place populated by ghosts and by great intuitions. It's the place where the best ideas are born.
In that tiny place, I saw success to achieve, tasks to complete and novels to write.
Maybe I saw the truth but did not recognise her. She was disguised as sorrow.
I saw myself there and I saw you. You were walking away. I let you go and slowly slid into the darkness.
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