Day

April 23, 2008
I can still feel the trees, the moist rush of breeze through the porous leaves โ€“ sweetened by stomata. I can still smell the ground. That smell โ€“ of grass; Of each shoot sharpened scent โ€“ piercing olfactories that no longer function. There is no grass โ€“ to tickle jaded lips, no trees โ€“ bagged...
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