"The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea."
Vladimir Nabokov -
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"You love my hands. You stare at them. When they aren’t on you, you wish they were. You love that they are strong. That they can softly stroke, or firmly hold. They write you. They strip you. They play you like an instrument."
"Even if you know what’s coming, you’re never prepared for how it feels."
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