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Odd
What oddities they are, morphed in touch.
Two young whatevers wrapped in tender’s skin.
Exchanging senses in a ballet of slumber.
Eyelids flittering to their sacred dreams.
What oddities they are, morphed in touch.
Two young whatevers wrapped in tender’s skin.
Exchanging senses in a ballet of slumber.
Eyelids flittering to their sacred dreams.
