Each morning she fills a bowl with love.
And my hands become like a spoon.
Nourishing my soul with such a precious gift.
A memory my mouth will soon never forget.
The taste of love
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 10:41 AM UTC
Each morning she fills a bowl with love.
And my hands become like a spoon.
Nourishing my soul with such a precious gift.
A memory my mouth will soon never forget.
The taste of love
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