1hundred8:she flowers in my gaze, nourished by warmth of lips, fingertips and palms, as we press, filling one another’s gaps, fitting as one, with heartbeats rejoicing like psalms, while souls perpetually undress, and we wander in wonder, feeling

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1hundred8:she flowers in my gaze, nourished by warmth of lips, fingertips and palms, as we press, filling one another’s gaps, fitting as one, with heartbeats rejoicing like psalms, while souls perpetually undress, and we wander in wonder, feeling

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