Frazzled Literature:

Wisps of soft yellow cotton tickle my nose, my eyes, my ears. I sit behind your chestnut hair in homeroom. The desire to crawl into those lavender and mint scented curls is overwhelming. You hold court over our classmates. Your laugh, deeper and richer than it was in September, is infectious but I’m on the outside of your inside jokes. 

Christy Hartman Avatar

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