Spring

We know we live again and again when bright spots sprout into whole bodies of fettered blossoms. Music from sounds of outside become less about slush, as the wet grass creates symphonic copulation for indoor and outdoor playtime.

We know we live again and again when loss becomes graphic and wanted in the palatable wagers of exchanged spirits. Nothing ever seems completed when buds refresh into livelier stock than before.

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Juggling Wordsmith. I have a lot to say! https://www.amazon.com/Women-Tribe-Short-Stories-Capturing-ebook/dp/B09MC7VRJ6/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=ezinne+ukoha&qid=163

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