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Jun 2015
It’s odd when you realize how poetic you get whenever you talk about your favorite place.
Mine seems to excrete smells of rotten fish and decomposing aquatic life; yet I find myself sitting there, basking in the sunlight and nose-offending odors, as if I myself were in a giant stir fry of the sea, the sun, and decomposition of life itself.
first part of this essay thing i have to do for an english class
Kiarra Dean
Written by
Kiarra Dean  18/Cisgender Female/USA
(18/Cisgender Female/USA)   
484
   Chris
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