Saturday, February 26, 2011

{{ a year is all I ask for }}

Wouldn't it be great if we could travel wherever whenever we want?

You've been visited by so many including me, yet my memory of you is slipping away. Have you changed? Does time change all things? I think it does. It's part of life. You grow just as I do. We become more mature, more sophisticated, more full of secrets. But I, like you, enjoy the warm beam of sunlight, the smell of fresh baguettes, the colors of strangers' attire, the soothing comfort of flowers, the red lips on beautiful women, and the smell of wine in the afternoon.

When will I see you? Will you still be there when I grow up?

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