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Zero dusk, word of the day.
I N T I M A T E.
Foreheads resting gently against each other. Save for a few peeks to ensure it isn't just a dream, our eyes are generally closed. Basking in the nothingness, and everythingness that we are. Fingers entwined, legs loosely tangled together. Soft slow breaths, relaxed, comfortable.
The only light - a delicate ray peering through the curtains providing a spotlight for the dancing flecks of dust. Nothing exists here, but us.
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