Everything about her screamed fall.
Her hair, the color of the leaves on the tree.
Her perfume, a similar fragrance to the candle burning in her room.
Her eyes, full of fire, a wild fire, burning and crackling.
And her smile, just like the matches in the kitchen drawer, would light up a room in a second.
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Purple poems
Poetry"And if a genie were to come come and tell her she had one wish, she would wish for the world to slow down, and for the pain to finally stop." #17 in tired 8/8/18
