Monday, February 23, 2015

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Before you know people love my habit of writing about me, I do not really like to write something else, except me. The love I knew it, she carefully read what I write. The way I use ellipsis strapped describe mood, use of subtext, even abrupt end with a question mark. She is a part of my heart, proudly boasted.
I went to the river, where two children sit still, gray linen mat, sat, sun shelves land. Free, then looked up through the red and blue boats. I closed the book gray decorated with rope and dried flowers, carefully distilled blue pen you donate. Paper scented ink in the last pages written about me.
One Thought on "A long story"
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