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She walks the streets with a steady pace.
No destination in sight, travel being her dear friend.
Daylight makes her head bow, not wanting to show her pale skin whispering memories of needy boys.
She walks
she runs
she steps
she hops.
She hopes for a journey to unfold without it defining her being.
She wants to go alone, not bound to him but there's a desire to not be alone... 

Sherlock & The Gypsy