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Jul 2010
XV
i love the slender branches singing and the sun crisping the disheveled songs mixing in the wind's palms. shatter softly sunlight on the meadow of my flesh.

it was the velvet of the cool light. tugging on the dark sun. like singing the nothing touched every ideal and came whispering to the flowers. and


                                    BLOOM.
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
494
   PrttyBrd
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