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I miss him, Maybe a little maybe a lot When the sun shoots its rays against my skin The softness of your fingertips runs wedges over my hips I hear you call me and the green overlooking our vision's horizon Memories that float over the weather’s waves
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
the weather reminds me of when
I miss him, Maybe a little maybe a lot When the sun shoots its rays against my skin The softness of your fingertips runs wedges over my hips I hear you call me and the green overlooking our vision's horizon Memories that float over the weather’s waves
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
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