Blue Eyes
A journal of dogeared pages, with a pair of flowers - one blue, one violet - pressed between the cover and the first page.
Saturday, 31 January 2015
In all the cycles long, there has never been a song for my own self. Many gifts, offerings, promises, and whimsies.
Just once, for my own.
Someday, maybe, it will be sung.
The rest of the page is torn away.
Cenny posted @ 19:56 -
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