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THE GYPSEA SOUL

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December 21, 2017 by lindskor

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When she was a child, my love carried a road-map in her hand the way other girls carried handkerchiefs. She always knew the way. Her feet were little wings. And her beautiful head was a compass.

There's something about arriving in new cities and wandering empty streets with no destination. I will never lose the love for the arriving, but I'm born to leave.

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