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noonday
- Trần Pui Pui
- Dec 2, 2015
- 1 min read
My Dear Annemarie,
The heat of this land is blinding. I remember how exhausted you were we we last arrived, years past. Your cheeks were fuming from the sun, eyes wide opened with excitement. The dry heat couldn't drain you from exploring, no. This dry heat can't drain me from being here.
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