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In the Tent
We will be awkwardly in sync. We'll paint the walls in bright colors.
We'll play songs that tell me where you come from. You'll hear poems
from books that show you who I am. Our bodies will glide in a rhythm long awaited.
Then, we'll fuck until the rings of the tent start to sweat.
We'll play songs that tell me where you come from. You'll hear poems
from books that show you who I am. Our bodies will glide in a rhythm long awaited.
Then, we'll fuck until the rings of the tent start to sweat.
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