misswhistle
when i sing she doesn't care; when i whistle she looks at me expectantly
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Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Along the Quai Voltaire
"A shivering icy dawn, in pink and green arrayed,
Its progress on the deserted Seine now slowly made
And, still sombre, rubbing its eyes, that veteran
Labourer, Paris, hoisted its tools: new day began."
-- Baudelaire, from
Les Fleurs du Mal
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