The gentle, artificial breeze of a passing train is a moment of peace,
my mouth full of mint mouthwash, and the memory of my lover,
so I don’t speak,
certain that they will fall and fade away if my lips were to part.
I really needed this moment.
The gentle, artificial breeze of a passing train is a moment of peace,
my mouth full of mint mouthwash, and the memory of my lover,
so I don’t speak,
certain that they will fall and fade away if my lips were to part.
I really needed this moment.
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