The two hundred and nineteenth thing I love about us is the way you make my world so vivid with color. My life would be so drained and pale without you.
I'm like a box of markers! Or maybe crayons. Or tie-dye!
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...
I'm like a box of markers! Or maybe crayons. Or tie-dye!
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