"Back to the automatic dispenser of, paper so I can dream again."
Our last hello was quite complex. The interconnectedness has become excruciating. My obsession with you is defined by a series of induced tremors, smiles, kisses (both real and fantasized), nervous laughing, and filthy scenarios played out in a violent rapture. I finish every thought with an incorrect prepositional you. I don't want to wake up
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