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04.25.08 / 11:39 am
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how often the sun upon my skin creates the feeling of security, i cannot describe. the summer air, thin burnished gold, shining with reflection; everything aglow, even the flowers.i used to dream, in darker days, of summer; the languid ease, almost sinful, and ice in every drink. treat the dark as interlude between months of solid, humid heat remember sunlit security, and thus forget gray winter weather, and the dull fog that shrouds all thought.
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