A tree that lives at the edge of the forest. Taking care of the stand, yet looking outside to feel the momentary dance of butterflies over the meadow.
december 02, 2009
a little of each
the blurred image I worshipped lingers still this is you and this is not you I thought... for times on, I thought I knew the object from the shade it caused here... you the one I thought were and the one really are. -
2 megjegyzés:
A haunting poem.
thank you, Jason.
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