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lostinfirenze
17/F 'ciao' she said and he fell in love with the girl who couldn't decide whether hello was goodbye.
take me to Paris, she said through star-filled eyes through which she couldn't quite see and his shadow beckoned her delicate hands into the unknown and when she touched the Eiffel tower it felt almost as cold as his hands had been when he picked her up from the grass but she ignored his ice hands and instead hummed to the tune of his contralto voice even when it raised with every hoarse breath as it turned to terrifying storms of thunder she lay in silk as her artist's muse soft fabric against skin chills sweeping up her back goosebumps against her arms yet she smiled but she longed to hold the paintbrush and swim amongst the bright colour when she traipsed across sunset fields she felt his grip tighten but she treasured the security that he wielded in his rough hands and when he hit her it felt like a kiss
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May 14, 2021
May 14, 2021 at 5:27 PM UTC
take me to Paris, she said
the light tore through her eyes as she rolled in the green grass laughing through her tears as she watched the sun’s demise and seeing the sky turn from arctic to indigo she lifted herself from the earthen bed rosy cheeks aglow tumbling drunkenly down cobbled ground hearing the concertina player’s refrain the air cradling the forte of the sound and the breeze thickened with the cool evening veil so she walked past the mosaic homes, sleeping in their wake, somewhat yearning for the mundane and her heart begins to ache for she slept not in the cotton sheets of a sun-warmed bed nor in the arms of another because her eyes streamed storms and she belonged to the wild waltzing between cities that she had long forgotten gently removing the bandages of long-healed wounds bright unsure eyes like a child and though her hair was held in beautiful black drapes and her body clothed in a flowing white dress her curiosity like a little boy’s traipse her heart roared fires spitting with ash and flame her mind like a tiger no man could tame she was a living breathing storm calm on its surface fickle to transform so as she rolled through the grass watching the sun’s demise golden fires blazed in her eyes.
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May 4, 2021
May 4, 2021 at 4:26 PM UTC
six o' clock in italy