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Jun 2012
The smell of freshly bloomed flowers sifts through the air
And I can't help but to see it drift cautiously through my home.
I follow it with my blind eyes
And reach for it with the tips of my fingers.

I can't see where it has gone.
But I can feel it's presence
Soaked into the very fabrics of my life.
It calls out soothingly.
Heather
Written by
Heather
569
 
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