I see you in mums and fields of rye.
I take my time getting over you tonight.
You are above, and I am below, soft and low.
I don't mind the cold through the open window.
The things I keep are untouchable and weak.
I stay inside where the vines grow recklessly.
No one here understands me, I am free.
You were not defectless but that's how I choose to see you.
I will be unvanquished tonight.
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