"your anecdote is quaking...vigorously might i add." she replied, cold as ice.
"your heart is frosty with wit and self reliance, let me warm it." he replied, confident as spice.
"no." she replied, thrice times in unison, faster than a bullet train.
well i guess theres not a honey to be combed, when your home is so shown, to be known and in denial of what could be grown.
waht?
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