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RE: Night swallows itself in its reflection on this page
oh, nights... so special time.
I am sure most of your poems are written at night-) is it so?-)
Night is time for fairy-tales and magic, for something unusual and very tender.
At night we are sincere and true. A Night doesn't like lie.
It covers all the truth. At night we are naked in our souls and let our feelings go outside.
I adore nights.