It's true. Other springs I've rejoiced in each wave of blossoms as it came, and felt as though they were heaped one on the other in my memory, or whatever part of us stores colour and scent and light as joy, distilled. This year everything seems too sweet and brief for me to have more than a taste before it's faded away.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-05-14 05:44 pm (UTC){rf}