I love clean sheets. It's the simultaneous reminiscence of how they got dirtied to begin with, and hopeful anticipation of what stories they will live to tell next time you are standing fatefully in f...
I loved you, I did. I believe I even sold myself a bit: on your love, my lust, your hair and just the way we stood there. How the air smelled of you, the way your shirt was cursed with blues. The way...
