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You make the rest of the beautiful things in the world cry for even trying at all. You make it hard for me to breathe
Debra Anastasia
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Blake took her face in his hands. “You let me touch you. Kiss you. Your skin? It feels like piano keys. My hands know just where to go
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You want to be bad, angel? I can teach you every position it comes in
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That wasn’t blood. It was love. It pours out of you when you lose faith
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Don't put off happiness you can have today. Tomorrow is a hope, not a promise
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