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| Icare, Henri Matisse |
I fold myself between the sheets and fabric envelops me, pushing me from all sides. The pretty pink walls close in on me purring the promise of sweet dreams. I shuffle confused legs and lanky arms in the pursuit of the perfect position. Palms grab at the linen's cool exterior. A handful of brisk water hits pale skin when I find the spot where cool caresses me. Cool holds me as I fall asleep. Somewhere a little girl dreams of being a princess.
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