Write A Card For Cancer Patient

There are places where the walls are not made of bricks

The caressing hand remember the scent of sandalwood, white musk, lily of the valley. He
yellow amber, the shadow on the wall and cut a persistent silence that persists.
Rough skin on the string bed of fine and soft tissue on the shafts of colored blankets smiling.

It 's the cool solitude of an open door, enter, and somehow never get out more', because 'the door will open as the soul, and every Once fearful to return home becomes to find themselves pleased.