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Oct 2014
the memory of his large, thin hand on my back brought me to the

ghost of his breath entering my mouth...

these realities kick start my heart so i roll out of bed.

longing is unsettled skin and a crossed leg that won't stop hopping.

looking for familiarity in different hands, different *****...

hoping to feel that same flame lick up my thighs.

searching for green in the bluest of eyes~
ryann
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