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Jan 2017
I looked over at the hooded figure beside me, strolling through the drizzle of early autumn, and felt like I was seeing a stranger - the months of familiarization dissolved with the veil of clouds. It disquieted me, until I stopped the stranger and buried my hands in their dark hair and delved my tongue into the warmth of their mouth and tasted something very familiar; home.
Alison Satine
Written by
Alison Satine  in the grave.
(in the grave.)   
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