The Dark Night (XVIII) –May Sinclair Our love is woven Of a thousand strands— The cool fragrance of the first lilac At morning, The first dew on the grass, The smell of wild mint in the wood, The pungent and…
The Geek Who Understands You
The Dark Night (XVIII) –May Sinclair Our love is woven Of a thousand strands— The cool fragrance of the first lilac At morning, The first dew on the grass, The smell of wild mint in the wood, The pungent and…
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