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Jul 2015
The harshness of the day gives way to the whispers of the night.
My senses become heightened.
My skin that was dulled by the acosting day is now sensitive to the caressing breeze of the night.  
My eyes look longingly to the crying moon. The night is my lover and I revel in its sweet caress.
Karina Norris-Veirs
Written by
Karina Norris-Veirs  Oklahoma
(Oklahoma)   
241
 
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