Today I Opened A Book
Today I opened a book and found a flower that you’d pressed— it was orange and red and yellow and small. And in all ways it was our love gone now but beautiful still as the memory of something more. xx Atticus
Today I opened a book and found a flower that you’d pressed— it was orange and red and yellow and small. And in all ways it was our love gone now but beautiful still as the memory of something more. xx Atticus