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And the next time I reach for my pen,it won’t be to write about you again.The sun will feel warm on my skin once more,and I will get drunk on the colors of the skyinstead of tasting hangovers dripping from strangers’ lips.
And the next time I reach for my pen,it won’t be to write about you again.The sun will feel warm on my skin once more,and I will get drunk on the colors of the skyinstead of tasting hangovers dripping from strangers’ lips.
