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I see no clouds by my eyes, no air be stills these powder blue skies. Smoke curls through the sun scattered trees, a whisper of bliss, a touch of green. A monumental grandness disparages naivety of a summer breeze.
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
Sacre-Coeur
I see no clouds by my eyes, no air be stills these powder blue skies. Smoke curls through the sun scattered trees, a whisper of bliss, a touch of green. A monumental grandness disparages naivety of a summer breeze.
I've been on holiday in Paris and during my stay I wrote a lot. This one was actually written with a friend so I can't take full credit.
gaby-lemin
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
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