
She carries her memories like her scent. They surround her, they endure, and they speak her name. She is a collector and among her souvenirs can be found the beauty of beginnings, and the ache of endings. In the sacred of her heart lie the sacred and the profane they come together like the notes of her fragrance. She doesn't linger long at the altar of regret. She lights the candle and burns the incense at the shrine of remembrance and expectation, pleasure and pain, in anticipation of the glorious memories yet to come.
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