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A Poem Written Long Ago
When my hand brushes your nipple, An electric shock runs between my legs And surprises me there. When my hand glides against The curve of ...
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So here we go, 2025. Many did not come along with us. We persist for now. I admit to a certain amount of melancholy this season. I spent Ch...
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When my hand brushes your nipple, An electric shock runs between my legs And surprises me there. When my hand glides against The curve of ...
Wow! Strong image. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteha! I read that as "strange" instead of "strong." Both work, I think!
DeleteThat's wonderful. Not the kind of image that most people would think of as a B/W shot.
ReplyDeleteyes, well, the fields were getting quite decayed with flowers past there prime, and so I thought it excellent for a black and white image. I guess they let the flowers really go in order to dry out the seeds before harvest. They are mostly used to make oil in these parts.
DeleteReally lovely image.
ReplyDeleteReminds me of L. Cohen's song, "You want it darker."
DeleteOh, yes. So beautiful.
ReplyDelete