. There are some soft shells here scattered like silences across the fields, where the daisies are afraid of being treaded upon. There is no wind, only the memory of one, and so we know, this is a dream, of course. A dream we share, a dream of us. A private space we inhabit, one …
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About
Kenny Mah believes in the good in people. He has been blogging for over ten years. No, his hands aren't tired. Yet.
