"RUMPLED SHEETS AND THE SLOWLY WAKENING CITY. A CIGARETTE IDLE ON THE ASHTRAY. I THINK ABOUT HOW THE CROOK OF YOUR ARM WOULD FEEL ON THE SKIN OF MY NECK, IF MY LIPS COULD MEET THAT SPOT JUST BENEATH THE SHELL OF YOUR EAR. I HAVE UNDERSTOOD DESIRE AND ITS MANY COLORS, AND I KNOW THAT THIS KIND IS RARE."
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