November 22nd, 2009
Come, skip to my lou, where all things magical are powerless. I need not feel a touch from the gypsy, whose face reigns amongst the angry red glow, we stood in the sun for what seemed like an hour, and the gypsy disappeared. I wondered about the missing horses which were supposed so be galloping along the valley. Oops, I'm not at the valley.
Posted by starr at 12:43 AM | ˜”*°•♥•°*”˜