eleven

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HER:

"your faded white car is in my driveway and we are tangled inside of it, your breath hot on my collarbone. you feel like high school, but we both know we're too old for this."

HIM:

"if i were an artist, i'd paint my love across your shoulder blades. i'd make a canvas of your chest. i would seep into every crevice of your sculptured frame and you'd never leave me."

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