Saturday, January 16, 2016

Found in the Laundry

Little pastures of browning, but the pellet grey sky won't stop short. Lighter than air particles of thought stream loving stems of opening flowers. It doesn't work to sad. The words around only stand for timing all the effort left to us. This is the measure for even the winter day of rain. Love is the mention every day. The way thru is the way you.

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