the lake is just out of site, and I can almost smell the pine. this muddy road has been paved in gravel and my quiet backroad is lost to time. remember how cold it was in october, when we couldn't let go of summer?
all the most important things in my life seem to escape into the grain of photographs. if i stop taking pictures, will they disapear altogether?
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the lake is just out of site, and I can almost smell the pine. this muddy road has been paved in gravel and my quiet backroad is lost to time. remember how cold it was in october, when we couldn't let go of summer?
all the most important things in my life seem to escape into the grain of photographs. if i stop taking pictures, will they disapear altogether?
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