Fall, quiet, calm fFall. Coolness on my skin, a morning air that breathes into my bones.
I sense you in the morning, so near, a suggestion. By noon you are gone, the back of my t-shirt wet.
Clear, crisp, cool. Opposed by the oranges and reds of leaves, a soft sweater, a steaming cup.
Come, Season of Change, turn over the spoiled souls left in Summer's wake, we drag heavily on.
I sense you in the morning, so near, a suggestion. By noon you are gone, the back of my t-shirt wet.
Clear, crisp, cool. Opposed by the oranges and reds of leaves, a soft sweater, a steaming cup.
Come, Season of Change, turn over the spoiled souls left in Summer's wake, we drag heavily on.
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