1.13.13

i remembered…

what it was like to be regarded as one. bright and polished without the normal use

of pushing wit to the corners, edging out the source. or mascara.

I had forgotten the feeling of slight palms carrying the weight and then softening the blow. a packaged dream with comforting brows, furrowing the worry away.

A gleaming bloom at its beginning…petals warm and yearning for the next day sun.

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