scents
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iHard choices are carved daily
Nothing feels their chill or heat
as their creators, creativity, and consequences.
Years and years, by their charm
Words yet to be heard,
speeches yet to be verbalised,
gestures yet to be portrayed,
characters yet to be studied,
appearance yet to be seen,
thoughts and ideas yet to be freed.
just breath,
don't suffocate
let the amber rose
cover the cell
let the night
speak to you,
to your soul
let me breath
you in, I'll show
you art, her
tips are orchid