youth
as effortlessly as the exhailed breath
that dissapates into the cold of the night
it came and now is gone..
photo:
http://mysite.mweb.co.za/residents/profmd/image202.gif
"One ought only to write when one leaves a piece of one's own flesh in the inkpot, each time one dips one's pen." Leo Tolstoy
Posted by paisley at 9:34 AM
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