2: Key
When her bed is lonely and the night is long, it is still his face she sees when she touches herself in the dark. It’s his body pressed against hers. His breath against her neck, warm and possessive. It is his bluest eye looking at her-looking into her-memorizing the contours of a face he already knows by heart. It is his
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And I love 'she remembers what effortless chemistry feels like'.
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