You were that lazy sip of wine under the beaming silver of falling stars. You would swirl on my skin, tingle my tongue and tease my throat till my lips would break into a dimming smile and my eyes would spill love.
My fingers traced… they traced the chiseled edges of your jaw just like they run over the cracked hem of my wine glass.
You were special…
You… you were the rare cassette. One that’s worthy of honoring every vintage collection. Kept in a case of shimmering gold; draped in velvet.
You would sing the songs of pinching nostalgia, paint the walls with colors of retro sepia and calm my nerves like forbidden magic.
You were rare…
But then… every writer has a fancy oil lamp in her room, and I am no exception!
Every night, I feed some oil to its…
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