Moments fall through my fingers, grains blown in the wind of turning planets. This is all I have, this square of grass, this pinprick of time. A heartbeat. A flashing thought. And so I dry my eyes, and start again.
~~~
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Moments fall through my fingers, grains blown in the wind of turning planets. This is all I have, this square of grass, this pinprick of time. A heartbeat. A flashing thought. And so I dry my eyes, and start again.
~~~
Writing Spaces 
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