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Lejla Hott Jan 2020
so warm. strokes of light paints my skin. the trees are dancing ladies. each one in a dress more fabulous than any desginer can craft. they move choreographed by the wind, hand in hand. the early summer morning watches upon them. life and soul are what they give. upwards and outwarrds toward the light they stretch. drinking in the rays as pure as the rain. my arms reach out. fringers spreads towards the sun and slowly begin to dance. one step after another.

— The End —