March 26, 2009
By , sebastopol, CA
I stretch my arm out, as if toStroke the memory,As if to run my fingers through the invisible srtands ofSilver which weaves the intricate web of thoughts togetherThe memory of sun dancing on her gingery red hairOur lips stained with the blood of berries which our greedy hands dart to pluck inbetween the ThornsThe memory of her laughter, a bubble floating to explode in my earLaughter that the world halts to listen to, laughter that melts hearts My tiny fingers lace themselves in her shimmering hairMy small mind wrapping itself over one thought, and my lips obediantly put that thought into the form of words-"dont go."She smiles,and murmers in my ear, her srwberrie scent clouding my mind"never."The temporary delight that the memory brought vanishes,Along with her promise.

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