You’re
the secret stash of chocolate in the back of my file drawer
You’re
the novel under my pillow
You’re
the secret room in my mind I go to when I need space and quiet
You’re
the muse that lives under my desk
You
are love
Momma deer with her two fawns “Here!” (Eighth grade roll call, we had to say it loud and clear or face the consequences.) “I’m here,” I ...
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