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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 ...
Looks like a nice place to find some beautiful stones and rocks.
ReplyDeletemaybe, but I've never looked. It's the man-made pond on our campus. If anyone saw me wandering around looking for rocks they'd probably tell me to stop! Some mysterious person is taking cuttings from our rose garden, and while some don't mind, some are very up-in-arms about it.
DeleteIt is lovely. But such is the life in a community with all kinds of people. We have people who want to cull the deer and people who feed them (which is against the rules). And yes, I'm sure if I even touched a wildflower someone would take a picture and send it to security. Have a happy 4th tomorrow.
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