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My grief laps at the shores of my being, I taste some aged sorrow. Nostalgic on the nose, The rich earth of my soul. A quiet appreciation for the dark.
0
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 11:32 PM UTC
Single Malt
My grief laps at the shores of my being, I taste some aged sorrow. Nostalgic on the nose, The rich earth of my soul. A quiet appreciation for the dark.
Written by
31/M/Manchester
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 11:32 PM UTC
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