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Nov 2014
I look for you but all I can find is a vacant field.
The grass and the sky made a sempiternal promise,
so where have you gone?
The aubade we engaged in was slow and sweet, much like the dew collecting onΒ Β your petals.
This morning I hear no euphonious song below.
I suppose I'll keep listening for you.
Stalwart in pure affection.
Olivia Greene
Written by
Olivia Greene
678
     ---, ---, JWolfeB, wordvango and CapsLock
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