story

your fingers touch the poetry of my lips
bitten by rays of the sun

your eyes are listening to their murmurs
to decipher their mystery

your lungs sculpt in my air a timid kiss
in a story to shield me from any trouble


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anytime of the year

lovely

you can't run

good for me

face à face

tighten up

satisfaction guaranteed

tell me something beautiful, she said, — (∂ + m) ψ

give me a reason

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