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Somehow like the fingering of flowered notes on the backs of your hands,
The sky has been painted with a grin.
Your voice is my house of seven suns
Like the strokes of sugared petals across the cheek.
(m.o.)
ns 15.158.61.8da2Somehow like the fingering of flowered notes on the backs of your hands,
The sky has been painted with a grin.
Your voice is my house of seven suns
Like the strokes of sugared petals across the cheek.
(m.o.)
ns 15.158.61.8da2