Monday, June 7, 2010

Anticipation...

Winding through the endless meadow, she ran abandoned. Flowing white and feverish, she moved. Anticipation was her guide and her heart swept away the lingering mist. Willows whispered in the woods as her feet flew along the path. Upon her love she will not faint nor falter. Flow on feverish soul. Find the embrace that waits for you alone.

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