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Ah, doesn't matter. I'm not feelin' it with either one anyway. :beat:

I'll wait for the next one. :)

Wait, are we doing his king his dead or each time I look at you?

Pushing the sleeper over,
the pale flesh of her back is exposed
The moonlight washes over her
And she is made luminescent
I trace my finger over her;
feeling the joy in the wonder of her
As if...