Cherub Comments

Alas, 'tis the season for my heart to love.
A crisp Monday morning; bustling bodies align the streets, shoving off to their jobs.
The salty pavement ahead reflects only visions of those deep, radiant morsels; portals to your soul, summonsing me until all else becomes a faint muffle.
The CD spins a kaleidescope of yesterday's images while rendering me incoherent.
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