For a moment, the drooping yellow-singed trees smelled like a shelter of wet dogs.
***
such urgency...
cicada songs pulse
with each passing ambulance
***
clammy thoughts cling to my skin
***
gentle breeze...
the memory of your kisses
along my spine
(Written for The Art of Paying Attention E-course and the Mindful Writing Prompt #4.)
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10 hours ago
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