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Dec 2014
I wait standing outside
You buzz me in
Walking up four flights of stairs
I catch my breath at your door
Talking clumsily
We end up at the piano
You pull the seat out
And start to play
Sitting there
I stare
My breath smells like alcohol
The air like ****
Yet the thing that makes my mind race
Is the sound your fingers make
The Jolteon
Written by
The Jolteon
331
     Canny Vulpine, ---, ryn and SPT
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