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Pure

Monday, October 24, 2011

I have a garden that's burning and a sky that's so white i have to squint. The heat is hot, just sweltering. I can feel the sweat soaking the cloth on my back, sticking clammy to my skin. I got dry grass like a crackle, parched soil like a concrete desert. In my mind, all i see is a glass of cold cold water.

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