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Your heart is not a bureaucrat, waiting on tax returns. Nothing is in writing, nor verbal contract. The only inking is flushed skin upon contact. It is implied. It's the high road. It's when the bed shakes during a storm; It's when the grass grows again in the morning.
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 8:10 PM UTC
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Your heart is not a bureaucrat, waiting on tax returns. Nothing is in writing, nor verbal contract. The only inking is flushed skin upon contact. It is implied. It's the high road. It's when the bed shakes during a storm; It's when the grass grows again in the morning.
EphemeralLikeGold
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 8:10 PM UTC
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