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april-child
april-child
A feather blowing in the wind.
Each time i allow my mind to drift in retrospect, regrets gather like starlings in the dusk sky. Memories tainted rose take their own shape and imagination runs amok leaving wagging fingers in its wake.
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Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 3:58 AM UTC
Rose Tainted Spectacle
Something un-discernable just beyond my mind’s eye a feeling I can’t quite place meanders, ethereal as early morning mist swirling through woods delicate as ink on ancient parchment written with reed by a chinese monk beautiful in the way only sadness can be
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Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
Ancient Parchment