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"Strumming"

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i walk along this old country road breathing in the flowers as i please. My breathing is slow and my lips curved in a smile. Yes, i remember this. Yes, i remember you. No, i am not regretful because i loved you too plenty. i reach the end, where the dirt turns to a meadow, where the smell of flowers mingles with the sound of the rippling creek and i see the treehouse we had made our freedom together. i feel it now. i feel you now. i close my eyes and begin to sing the harmony of our old tune and i swear, not so far off in the distance, i hear strumming too.





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