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Oct 2021
Wet
Drip, drip, drip, a constant rhythm as the raindrops collided against her umbrella, protecting her like a knight, his enemies small but many as she goes about her day carrying with her a bouquet of flowers picked along her travels whispering to herself.

It's the details she wishes to rope in and hold forever as she examined the wet spot on this particular petal of her freshly picked bouquet, magnifying all the perfect imperfection, because she sees herself, and there's beauty in that too.
A Touch Of Poetry
Written by
A Touch Of Poetry  31/M/NYC
(31/M/NYC)   
2.4k
       Adaley June, --- and Cody Smith
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