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The Boy
The Boy.
His name is mine, deep and pure and rich.
Where he lives is no secret, he lives deep down in the cockles of my heart, pulsating with every step that I take.
He works making me fall in love with him more so each day.
His address is my address, intertwined.
His number is taken
His eyes are brown.
His
He is not an boy, but indeed a man, living inside a child mind sometimes playing.
The Boy
The man.
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