The double-hundred-and-twelfth thing I love about us is when I yawn really big and you poke me right in the middle of it and then I get the hiccups, but then eventually the hiccups go away, because whoo, do I ever hate the hiccups.
Soft, so soft, your lips against mine. I am grazed by their grace and drunk on their wine. We touch and we taste, endlessly divine engrossed...
If it didn't count for you, I'd have to copy it and use it today, because it definitely counts for me.
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