

Garden of my ImaginationA wind blew, from where I know not, but it lifted the fledgling leaves so that there was a flash of silver in the air. It was the time between the lights when colours undergo their intensification and white and golds burn in my visual acuity like the beat of an excitable heart; when for some reason the beauty of Angelina flash in my mind, the memory of which is so soon to gone, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.Garden of my Imagination
The gardens of my imagination lay before me in the spring twilight, wild and open, and in the long grass, sprinkled and carelessly flung, were daisy and liliacs, and now windswept
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i hate witty remarks
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