Isn't it beautiful? I love living slightly more on an ordinary morning.
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Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.
Isn't it beautiful? I love living slightly more on an ordinary morning.
He was so beautiful, the feeling of having come home grew and past rejection did abate.
The bed messy, roses in the vase his head on the pillow. The view was so unsettlingly beautiful, This is exactly where I want to stay.
She loved him for making her feel beautiful and the feeling of being wanted as a woman.
The pure, transcendent love, this menagerie of heaven and flesh is my beautiful resurrection.
The morning air began to bleed into the beautiful earth. Birds sang across the field and the sun rode across the sky.
There was something... wild, beautiful, even brilliant. They were going everywhere - beaches and forests and mountain peaks, with no money to make them happy.
A beautiful light passed his face. I have done all I can. I hope to look back upon my life and say I was a man.
I found him as beautiful as a dream. My head ran from morning til night. Ah, the poetry I'd written.