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Mar 2016
We found ourselves lost among the paintings,
marveling at masterpieces;
we strolled for an hour, our hands clasped,
gaping at history's riches.

His breath quickened in the gallery,
he had one hand on my heart;
he traced his fingers along my jaw,
as if I was the art.
Lyra
Written by
Lyra  KUL - CAL
(KUL - CAL)   
327
 
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