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Journey across time with calendar wings, moments packed like spare t-shirts and extra socks, passport in one hand and a window seat to the right; an empty notebook penciled by thought - its white void the clouds that fuel your glorious lungs Honeymoon with more sky and fewer limits, bound at the ankles by freedom - and spontaneity, by chance - the fresh juice of destiny your north in every glass of south; a stomach full of butterflies to take you to places the maps won't Voyage, gift-wrapped in mystery, each sunrise peeled apart with branching arms; that new car smell to steer you upon the magic of rhyming skies and watercolour footprints - companionship in purpose embedded into the souls of all who climb the peaks of your dreams beside you
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Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 4:58 AM UTC
WHERE THE MAPS WON'T
Journey across time with calendar wings, moments packed like spare t-shirts and extra socks, passport in one hand and a window seat to the right; an empty notebook penciled by thought - its white void the clouds that fuel your glorious lungs Honeymoon with more sky and fewer limits, bound at the ankles by freedom - and spontaneity, by chance - the fresh juice of destiny your north in every glass of south; a stomach full of butterflies to take you to places the maps won't Voyage, gift-wrapped in mystery, each sunrise peeled apart with branching arms; that new car smell to steer you upon the magic of rhyming skies and watercolour footprints - companionship in purpose embedded into the souls of all who climb the peaks of your dreams beside you
© Tamara Natividad www.pisceanesque.com Written 22 July, 2016
pisceanesque
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Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 4:58 AM UTC
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