I guess I throb to own a craft appeased in a night of a wafer-thin smile. Delving by touching, only just so far, far enough to feel more than the texture. I seem to see you okay by a soldier, you like to talk about all that they could be. Dancing lines explode within my heart. It’s not only me who likes when you’re pale. Becalmed by the sea, no one can warn you in answer to echoes. Surrendering in force, after the poison of years. Those years taken will never return. Time becomes rude in a dim candid light, making sure to jar our vanity.
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