It's so warm. Yes I know it's spring, but that's not it. It's you; I feel so warm in your arms. And you're nuzzling my neck; I like that. I lower my neck so you can kiss it more easily, my painting promptly forgotten. Suddenly you turn my head and kiss me, so gently. I'm not made of glass. I deepen the kiss and push you to the ground. After an eternity you break the kiss and just...hold me. I just feel so comfortable. I want to stay like this forever. Mireille, I'm so glad you read my letter.
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