Stuff 

Diamonds. Beers by a beach camp-fire. Stories from our youth. The first time for anything. Languid sex on a stormy night. Making a new friend. Airline stewardesses. Wine gluttony. The fucking best coffee you ever tasted, the perfect aroma, texture, temperature and mouth feel fuck yes. Anything that fills your cup, your senses and makes you fucking cry with joy. The sight of seeing your child born. A first kiss, quickly followed by a first fuck. That moment, you know, of that first “touch” of sin on sin. That glance and smile across the crowded room that leads to whatever you want it to. The way she plays with her hair and the way he leans in to you. A sunrise with promise. A sunset with no regrets. Life, well lived, loved, and with dancing.

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