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Her hair is Autumn. Cascading hues of locks that shine golden and auburn. They tumble down her shoulders like the crisp leaves of September. Rippling down her back in the bold sun and falling perfectly into place, grazing the small of her back. Her eyes are Spring. So lively and filled with the light of one thousand suns. Fresh and vibrant; astounded with all of the beauty beheld in the universe. Captivated by one glance and then cast adrift into turquoise seas; a lost sailor with no intention of being rescued. Her voice is Summer. Sultry and sensational. When she speaks, every word is like delectable honey; one taste is never enough. When she sings, warm sun rays illuminate her and she basks in nature's spotlight. The delicious melody seems infinite. Everyone craves to hear her succulent symphony. But her soul is Winter. Bitter and frigid, scarce and bare. Chilled to the bone and frost covers her spirit. It is always bleak in her heart and the ice never thaws. Her life is a permanent tundra and there will always be one set of footprints in the snow.
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Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
[She Is] Seasons
Her hair is Autumn. Cascading hues of locks that shine golden and auburn. They tumble down her shoulders like the crisp leaves of September. Rippling down her back in the bold sun and falling perfectly into place, grazing the small of her back. Her eyes are Spring. So lively and filled with the light of one thousand suns. Fresh and vibrant; astounded with all of the beauty beheld in the universe. Captivated by one glance and then cast adrift into turquoise seas; a lost sailor with no intention of being rescued. Her voice is Summer. Sultry and sensational. When she speaks, every word is like delectable honey; one taste is never enough. When she sings, warm sun rays illuminate her and she basks in nature's spotlight. The delicious melody seems infinite. Everyone craves to hear her succulent symphony. But her soul is Winter. Bitter and frigid, scarce and bare. Chilled to the bone and frost covers her spirit. It is always bleak in her heart and the ice never thaws. Her life is a permanent tundra and there will always be one set of footprints in the snow.
The blizzard is getting stronger.
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Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
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