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I felt every inch of him crash against my soul, my heart, my skin…over and over like a relentless child….Incapable of uttering his thoughts…his touch, his touch, could drown my soul at each and every sunset. A ocean, he is the calming, mysterious, ever alluring body of saltwater I can’t step out of. 

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Parallel lines 

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Parallel lines, have a plethora in common but never have the opportunity to touch, to feel, connect… All other lines connect at some point, touch, crash into the other and then proceed to move forward disconnecting from the other. I can’t quite fathom which thought is more solemn…