Thursday, February 24, 2005
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May we sit a while here in these gardens, I'm of the opinion these shrubs hold a certain mystique. That of which I cannot put my finger on.
Where are your fingers my dear? This bitter cold will turn them blue, and yet your eyes are spa baths of similar hue.
Hand me the thermous!
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Where are your fingers my dear? This bitter cold will turn them blue, and yet your eyes are spa baths of similar hue.
Hand me the thermous!
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