Uncontainable

She whispers, “please write of me…” as she falls asleep.

“I cannot write of thee..” he says kissing her forehead so tenderly as a father would kiss his daughter, so caring.

“If I write of thee, then from the pages you will never be free… Contained is not who you are meant to be…” he says while watching her sleep among the trees as he listens to the whispers of the cool fall breeze.

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