Magnolias At Dusk

There are days when magnolia blossoms feel like offerings, hands pitched in prayer. The petals are smooth as expensive leather, not out of place at all as the material needed for a Parisian lady's handbag. Vintage pink. Classy. Not too bright. As if flecked ever-so-subtly with the tiniest shades of grey. There is comfort to... Continue Reading →

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