hello summer. you no longer enthrall me like you used to, and i suspect you no longer love me anymore. you can have june and the first three weeks of july. i only ask the week of the 29th, and the slumber trial and waiting afternoons of august, the empty beds that remind me of her, and the taste of her skin. if i could say anything to her, i would whisper in her ear that i love her and that is for ever and always...
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