 Your freckles are the most beautiful stars. They dance across your cheeks, bridge your nose, and dot your forehead, forming a constellation that shifts with the seasons of your life. In summer, they might shine a little brighter, catching the sun's glow; in winter, they may fade, whispering secrets of the dark, waiting for the sun to return.
They're reminders of days spent under the sky, of laughter in the sunshine, and whispers under the moon. They tell stories of your ancestors, connecting you to the vast web of life that stretches across the night sky. Your freckles, your stars, are a testament to the cosmos's beauty. They live with you, breathe with you, and move with you. They stand as proof of the universe's complexity and wonder, reflected in you. So, when you look in the mirror and see them, remember, you carry a piece of the grand cosmos that is uniquely yours.  Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgundy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.  Coffee, hot chocolate, under a tin roof, in the rain... sounds pretty darn nice to me.
Make mine a caffè americano with two shots of white mocha! |
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