The three hundred and twenty-sixth thing I love about us is that even when I am apart from you, I can picture every part of you, as clear and bright as the sunrise on a cloudless day.
Not the inside of my nose, I hope!
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...
Not the inside of my nose, I hope!
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