"Evening hours at the desk
And a page irreparably white
The mimosa calls up the heat of Nice
a large bird flies in a beam of moonlight.
And having braided my hair carefully for the night
as if tomorrow braids will be necessary,
I look out the window, no longer sad,-
at the sea, the sandy slopes.
What power a man has
who doesn't ask...
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I need more of that socialwhatsamahoozits you're talking about. Usually I find being social to be so tiring.
I have the icky bleach crusties on my scalp because it's crying right now!!!! The pictures I took make my hair look RED. I have to remedy this.
(Hopefully Ophelia won't mind me resposting this wonderful picture of her...)