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■ The oak
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HIM
Still cold air The foxes stare from dark green recesses As we walk across wet grass together Our breath thick as smoke From cigars held by the night's ambassadors. We are alone At last, free from the crowd That pressed and yawned As we made our escape To a place of solitude where we can hold each others hands And feel the soft embrace of warm skin The longing of passionate hearts, The gentleness of loving lips. -------------------------- ME Fog, i open the window wide open White, the colour of my robe vanilla, aroma coming through the door you, silently sleeping uncovered.
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