The White Narcissus
I’ll wed in April. I’ll wed when the dew is like diamonds upon the white of narcissus, its deep red heart like the beating of mine.
I’ll wed in April. I’ll wed when the dew is like diamonds upon the white of narcissus, its deep red heart like the beating of mine.
Once a playground assistant came to him and asked what he was doing. “Looking for a four-leaf clover for the girl who won’t tell me her name.”
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