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Paramour Carrousel
I’m having trouble reading you sometimes.First, you lapped me up like a stray dog in heat, but not quite. On nights when we drank together, nothing much else seemed to matter but the moment, until the sun showed us we pushed it too far again and you really needed to clean your coffee table. Too many fingerprints on the glasses. Almost out of cigarettes. Never have I heard so many words between words as when we talked about what bugs us, what brings us to life. You kept looking at my lips.Then,...
Love Stories