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Nov 2010
The crooked path of my unraveling spirit
twists amid crystal relics; icy recollections that
amble through cool ferns and bloodied twilights, absorbing
warm ivory sunlight leisurely
threading through daisy and lemon summers,
whispering days of rain and balmy nights under the moon, revisiting
unknown sects of lost words and sparkling snowflakes, reliving
the forgotten.
Written by
chelsea greene
1.0k
 
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