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Gelato
maria.morisot posted a photo:
The cold cone synchronized
with the chill Winter’s breath,
upon my lips, my love spills out,
and on the ground, you pick it up;
Dust it off, and shape it;
as though it’s made of paper,
My heart combusts
and isles of volcanic ash
become a metaphor for
our amusements of love.
You fold…
pleasetouch.me/2017/05/27/gelato/
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