the deep, soothing texture of cheesecake
the rustle of pencil against rough paper; soft grainy lines
sitting down alone on a bench swing; letting down your guard with God
a soft, thick-textured shirt
the intense, deep orange-red color of the same shirt
the quiet grainy sound of one of the songs on my computer
May the good things of the world go down to my very bones, o Lord. They are yours.
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