Your single finger pressed against my bruised lips
keep the sorrowful words in.
Your pure words fill the dark corners in my heart with innocence.
Your soft bosom is a pillow of comfort
that not even God could create if He had eight days.
For this,
For you,
And all for you,
I would go through it a thousand times.
Thank you.
keep the sorrowful words in.
Your pure words fill the dark corners in my heart with innocence.
Your soft bosom is a pillow of comfort
that not even God could create if He had eight days.
For this,
For you,
And all for you,
I would go through it a thousand times.
Thank you.

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