wolfman

вторник, 24 юни 2014 г. § 0

I remember his lips. Soft. Gentle but cocky. 'Do you want tea?' His lips - soft but cold, trying to like something his mind couldn't. 

I remember my lips. Rough as they always were. Smiled. My lips - not knowing what to do but bold, wanting to get close again, trying to feel something my mind wanted them to, but failing because they had understood they were alone. 


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