these are not my people I should never have come here

Monday, July 19, 2010

She lifts her skirt up to her knees, walks through the garden rows with her bare feet, laughing.

"Lay your blouse across the chair,
let fall the flowers from from your hair
and kiss me with that country mouth, so plain.
Outside, the rain is tapping on the leaves,
to me it sounds like they're applauding us the the quiet love we've made."
-Empty, Ray LaMontagne
_art day!

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