Sunday, June 15

Little fingers

Dear friend
I remember in summers past when I would wake up every morning at 8, put on my clean white sandals and eat a breakfast under the canopy of lime colored trees in my backyard. scabbed over knees and sweet red lips would smile up at the blue sky. summer would ring out in every shade of red white and blue. peanut butter would me smothered all over tiny fingers.
my childhood summers were memorable.
i dont know why but i just thought i should say that
love always erin

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