"when will we have our last dance, he asked.
my eyes searched his;
before the sun rises, i whispered. "
// Ironic how time flew in a slow dance when I had her in my arms; praying that it would last, not knowing it would be my last. //
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"when will we have our last dance, he asked.
my eyes searched his;
before the sun rises, i whispered. "
// Ironic how time flew in a slow dance when I had her in my arms; praying that it would last, not knowing it would be my last. //
♥ A Writer's Journal ♥
Where readers can get to know me, Stephanie Rose, through my writing processes, my multiple projects, and my passing thoughts.
Where I answer questions -- those asked by my re...