His touch cable knits my veins, remaking and remolding who I am.
You failed her when you turned your back on what you are.
Aye,” he smiles, joy igniting in his stormy gray eyes, stroking my hand possessively as if unwilling to let me go for fear I am nothing more than a hallucination about to wear off.
Oh baby, your planet sounds like paradise but it just doesn't fly down here in the trenches.
For why war? Nada ne hurt, sister ne hurt, for why you make vesna sore? For why!
Holding my hands, kissing the palms, his smile is ecstatic, jubilant, adoring, and the song playing speaks for him, “Have you ever seen the light...the way it shines in you.
Who knows what real really is...
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