I feel it all the
Time slips through my Fingers strumming a broken String tangled up in Knots bulging out of her Back in the day when life was Easy does it, sweetheart, just Relax the curls by applying Heat rises up in waves from the Pavement imprinted by tiny Feet buried deep in the Sand bags holding back Water falling from the Sky-colored dresses on Bodies in a single-file Line their pockets with Money isn't everything.
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AuthorChicago-born citizen of the globe, rich in the things that really matter. Let's get weird. Categories
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January 2019
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