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Funny, but the so-called peace only seems to apply to those with money and power.
Every part of her is perfectly curated, and while I can deeply appreciate that, I want to see her when she’s messy and losing control.
I’m only too happy to kneel at the altar of her body.
Some might call them imperfections, but they just make her that much more real to me. A goddess, yes, but a woman made of flesh and blood. A woman I wish was mine.
She kisses me the same way she touches me; as if I’m something—someone—beyond price.
