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280 pages, Paperback
First published November 15, 2011



All those years building and all it took was for a puddle to bring it down.
We didn't speak, and yet we were communicating. Getting to know each other, without words. When you think about it, words don't count for much anyway. It's the intentions behind them that count.


I wonder if that tinge of white mixed in midnight is dawn. I wonder if dawn's there always, inside the night. I wonder if dawn's tucked somewhere in midnight's folds, safely stowed until its time to shine.
