liz-1Whisper

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Forest FlowGrounded on my mat of morning-moist loam, the trees gossip with one another and the birds call out suggestions. My lungs suck down the sunbleached air as my skin engulfs the remnants of last night's rain. Somewhere, caught between a down dog and a forward fold I thought of you. The clay rich dirt kisses my forehead as my breath makes love to the wind and my soul whispers 'thank you.

6

Apr 11, 2011

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