The flower's dalliance with the dew, like a game of cat and mouse. The sun gets jealous and heats itself up; the grasses wait for the drop to fall and grace them with its love. Everything is a system, a closed circuit with a finite set of players. One to two and two to three and her to you and her to me. Nothing really unexpected, but nothing quite predictable either. You know it's going to happen, it's inevitable in fact, but then the question is when and now, and what are you going to do about it.
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