He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. I think not. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart.
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This video was uploaded to warmfuckclips.com on 18-09-2024 06:25:48
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