Thursday, 15 May 2014
08:54:42 AM (GMT)
The whispering wind blows through the branches.
It blows leaves into your hair.
The nights grow colder.
As the seasons change.
People are wearing warmer clothing.
Winter is coming.
Soon it it will snow.
Soon we'll have to leave.
I rather like it here.
Time with you is never long enough.
I want, no, need more time with you.
More time would be heavenly.
There's never enough time.
bleh. sounds like if that was a liquid, it'd be as thick as syrup. or molasses. or