The meanders
Your hands do not know how much they remember. With cacti stitch the emptiness. Subject to unprecedented laws, clocks go backwards. Did you earn smiles - butterflies? In the curves of my footprint nesting happy forest perennials and only a lone would be addicted. You are drawing me up and yours. You did not give me the moon. Am I in the midst of a night and a fever ... Drink me, drink my water! Curl me with your last shirt, because our senses are blind! The heart remembers how trapped in breathing to make you feel.
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