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: I want the blood to boil under my skin again. I want my cheeks flushed...
I want the blood to boil under my skin again. I want my cheeks flushed with crimson that you’ll try to brighten. Threats from the sun won’t bother me as I come out of hiding, from under my winter figure. It’s cold in my heart and my hands begin to wonder what it’s like to hold another, remembering…
