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Mar 2010
I remember the sunlight through the trees,
And the days never fitting quite right.
These moments in madness,
And we're spiralling ever upward.
From the first,
To dizzying heights;
Soft spoken amongst the clouds,
Drifting course less on these images.
So, yes,
I remember the sunlight through the trees;
And days fitting perfectly in your arms.
©2010 Allison Owens
Written by
Allison Owens
1.4k
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