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some days, I really believe you liked me being locked inside your mind. where you can play among me with curiosity like a kid traps a caterpillar within the grip of their hand.
his teeth marked my thighs like love letters written in braille. lightly, running my fingers through his hair like guitar strings and moaning harmonies through my lips. I swear, I could feel earthquakes erupting inside me as hot lava danced down my skin.

— The End —