I do not trust the spirit. It escapes like steam
In dreams, through mouth-hole or eye-hole. I can't stop it.
One day it won't come back. Things aren't like that.
They stay, their little particular lusters
Warmed by much handling. They almost purr.
--Sylvia Plath
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Comments 21
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Add me back dear.
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Added back dear
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You're added back as well. ♥
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want to add each other's "regular-type" journals?
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Added love.
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