Dedicated to snatches of song that can sum up your state of mind at that moment.
To those song-
writers and poets who string words together that anyone can own.
To my own pen, that can create pieces of song, though rare...
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Scheherazade
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces.
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