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You were older than I was: nineteen years older, old enough to be my mother not my lover, but you were, each part of you, that dyed blonde hair, Rubenesque figure, blue eyes, **** voice, and us making out either in your lounge on the blue sofa or in your double bed with moonlight pouring in on us. You liked the bottle of wine or scotch I brought, the Mahler 1st or 5th, small talk, the big talk. You were the seduced of my youth and it was fine, it was an education of one to one, a kiss and never tell or tell, but not with whom or where. I sailed you through Seven Seas, climbed your mountain peaks, surveyed your valleys of dark and love and lust. You rest now, in God's peace, I hope and I trust.
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 3:28 AM UTC
You Were 1974.
You were older than I was: nineteen years older, old enough to be my mother not my lover, but you were, each part of you, that dyed blonde hair, Rubenesque figure, blue eyes, **** voice, and us making out either in your lounge on the blue sofa or in your double bed with moonlight pouring in on us. You liked the bottle of wine or scotch I brought, the Mahler 1st or 5th, small talk, the big talk. You were the seduced of my youth and it was fine, it was an education of one to one, a kiss and never tell or tell, but not with whom or where. I sailed you through Seven Seas, climbed your mountain peaks, surveyed your valleys of dark and love and lust. You rest now, in God's peace, I hope and I trust.
TerryCollett
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 3:28 AM UTC
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