Sunday drifts in with sage-scented air, sunlight spilling through the quiet corners of the week.
I let it wash over me, softening what’s past and opening space for what’s next.
I let it wash over me, softening what’s past and opening space for what’s next.
Sunday drifts in with sage-scented air, sunlight spilling through the quiet corners of the week.
I let it wash over me, softening what’s past and opening space for what’s next.
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