We left the station, you rocked me with "Blood Blank" but you can not measure the shaking of the bus, the warmth of your palm on my face. The amount of affection (more than that), healing in a single gesture. And how. That made me perfect in your lap, full in the darkness of the highway in the abundance of wool. And the taste in the hours before the arms and even hit the palate.
I thought the next song was to Trépannier, but I opened my eyes and we were entering the city.
Also, do you realize that only changed the color bedspread?
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