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Friday, April 22, 2005


One More Night
You know those dreams that feel so real. Where you can really feel his lips pressed against yours and his hand tracing a slow tentative trail up the small of your back. It's sex on a sunday morning, just the two of you and those clumsy kisses, those hands making you feel new. Soft. Perfect. The entaglement of limbs, in this perfect world where morning breath doesn't exist and the sun casts an ethereal glow on the down of his arms and legs. In that bubble of an existance where everything outside ceases to exist and it's just you and him. I'm not sure I like those dreams all that much anymore.
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