with no resentment, how do I leave you on the grassy verge. butterfly Ball
she tried to spin again that morn. her fingers now tattered, twisted and worn, she had come this far lengthened the space what must she do to erase his face. the spider is teased with yet more words are they from the heart or from the sorrow poured in more to fill the pot so does she calm then cry... Sign in to see full entry.