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  • My breath slows into peace when I think about you. I can almost feel your breath on my neck and your gentle, whiskery kiss on my lips. This cooling tea is no replacement for our whiskey conversations when time is a joke to us and blows through like the wind. Without you, the same passing of time is cruel and passes like molasses. Can I fold myself into the memory of your arms until I can see you again? Will you be my port in a storm of loneliness? Did we invent this love to suit ourselves? I miss our wild abandon.
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