i am baking,
valentines day baking, pink sprinkles and heart shaped shortbread, little cakes
and bowls and the smell of soap, just white soap with rough wood floors
watching the last waltz
(music used to be really handsome and meaningful, at one time)
bob dylan on rockin' rome
and my hair used to be long and brown and golden with the sun
i had flowered
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In other news, I love you. You have the voice of a calico poet and a sugar-dusted fresh bread queen.
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but i can see how it might play out:
amy is measuring flour, her muscles give out and she spills the bin all over the kitchen, creating a faux-snowstorm akin to what they make in the snow resort in dubai
i love you dear
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