Riding on a shooting star through a sea of snow flakes. I catch one on my tongue... they taste like candy. Sweet. Clouds under my feet, skipping through the daisies of life only to pick a poppy that turns into a toadstool...and not the kind you find in a fairy ring but the kind you use as an umbrella when it's raining mud pies...grabbing my raybans to shade the rainbow in mine eyes of salt water...crabs rest in my lashes...and the sand glistens like diamonds in the sky and then I realize...I must be Lucy.
~or nuts~
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