:: January Midnights ::
I wish I could forget about structure, grammar, coherency, audience, form, function, decency, and censorship and just....write. |
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:: Wednesday, February 11, 2004 ::
My love for you is like a rose, that with each passing day;
Slowly, softly, surely grows in nature's bright display-
And with a certain subtle skill, it's thorny limbs all twining -
A broad expanse it's body fills, and whispers in it's binding,
A thousand lips of ruby red, murmuring of wishes-
Rising from it's earthly bed, promising a thousand kisses.
Though these flowers, mortal, fade, and winter's breath does set them free,
These are flowers that my heart has made, and shall live and bloom as long as thee.
~Fox
:: Fox 4:13 PM [+] ::
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