Untitled - June 3, 2000 The gentle winds of spring are a soft caress against bare arms. The bright sun is a warm smile against my eyes. The warmth that surrounds me does not even begin to match the sense of satisfaction that overwhelms me.
Untitled - June 3, 2000 The gentle winds of spring are a soft caress against bare arms. The bright sun is a warm smile against my eyes. The warmth that surrounds me does not even begin to match the sense of satisfaction that overwhelms me.
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