Loving, is an art. One, bestowed on every living thing. It is rooted deep within and takes no effort to manifest. It is natural, free flowing like water coming down a hill. You do not decide when to love or when to stop loving. Loving, is an art. A gift, like air. We did/do not ask for it. It is there, ever present like cells in a living being. Loving, is an art. Expressed differently, by different beings. It is addictive and endearing. It is unfathomable and unfettered. -thoughts of a mad mind
Posted on: Thu, 18 Jul 2013 07:26:48 +0000
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