It was a kiss of banana splits in the dead of summer, of hot chocolate when your fingers are numb from cold. It was a kiss of cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven, of homemade pies cooling on the windowsill. A kiss of long, pink summers that stretched out to cotton candy clouds floating in hues of blue and purple while the ocean waves hugged your feet. It was a kiss after a thousand years without any.
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| — | Ashelyn Poston (via savvywords) |
