"Love me slowly, she whispered, like the love……" — Christopher Poindexter

"Love me slowly, she whispered, like the love I had for her, had limits. Like it could run out as easily as a grain of time. I could tell, by the sound of fear in her lungs, that she had a terrible past. The kind that no one talks about, the kind that remains bottled up inside of you, slowly and quietly, killing everything in your bones."

Christopher Poindexter

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