in those soft yearning hours thinking about the intimacy of stopping at a flower field on a drive with your lover. imagine picking flowers along rows of vivid colors, the sweet smell in the air and the faint buzzing of bees. gently brushing aside their hair to place one single flower. warmth from the sun coming and going with the clouds, your rosy blush blamed on the light itself. hands held and delicately swinging on the walk back to the car, skin dancing on skin, plans for the day forgotten and replaced with a memory
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