The savory smells of the Fall. I have found favor here. Ahh, favor; living among constellations and breathing exhilaration that quickens my pulse blows back my hair and heightens my senses.
Intriquing find I crunching the fallen leaves remembering and being a happy child again.
Longing for the crisp Kool-Aid rain to drip along my flesh until I've been showered by favors grace.
The light in the moody clouds is art - a fine ceiling for a becoming even finer world.
If only for a season.
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