The night was young and naive. We were old before our time. You were drunk on my doorstep, and I was swept up in your sweet, sandy stare, watching you sink your teeth into your soft lips. A kiss, slow and gentle, taming your temper, and your tension, after a long, hard day. I want to be your remedy, my passion, pulsing beside your racing heart. I want to hold you, until you feel safe to be sober. I want you, relentlessly, so much that I mutter your name every moment. | | | | | You can also reply to this email to leave a comment. | | | | |
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