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Estival

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Jul. 12th, 2015 | 11:01 am

Because of your beautiful face I was forced to recall woods on either side of erbsville road opening and closing each estival handful of light and heat the swarming zillions cool dark recesses when needed souvenirs of the festive sky that lead me to harder. Who pointed toward the clubhouse.

On top of this woodland red frizzy morning or sunset that might have been a conflagration of everything but the moment we saw each other this fractious room scrambling for small candies or rubies whatnot strewn path to sidereal guiding sleep until everything echoed kiss me.

It happened and did not happen radial from repose since that precise moment there is one measure love nothing even approaches. Woods parted. Road opening to you. Long ago.
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