Boston, MA

Warm finger tips of the coffee cups,

The taste we reach for in our craving.

….

The antique storefronts,

the premature havens and ships.

The humanity we can bond within; it seems..

The green forests where we always heave our breaths and we look at the leaves in their forever braving.

And back to our wooden houses at night;

we’re sitting on the mahogany floors listening to Bon Iver.

:

The restness whom has a perfect fitting
in our thoughts….

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