"The human heart has hidden treasures, in secret kept, in silence sealed; the thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, whose charms were broken if revealed." -Charlotte Brontë
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Incandescence
Ice will fever, Long winters gone. Memories, Canvases open. Chills are luxuries, Crystal thread and fine points. Spinning, Ring a round. White shades, Round summers. Incandescence might last.
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