My mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you might kiss it again stuck in my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss. And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of those steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree. (This was in a St.Valentine's card for Alexa, from Alex.)
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