writing after midnight
It's the dead of night
and the heat blowing on my legs
dries my skin to the "nth" degree
but warmth is a good trade-off
for the pleasure of sitting in the
glow of you, spilling forth my
secrets.
and the heat blowing on my legs
dries my skin to the "nth" degree
but warmth is a good trade-off
for the pleasure of sitting in the
glow of you, spilling forth my
secrets.
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