I hear her like a whisper through the falling rain, her name is the storm, the scream inside every crack of deafening thunder. And I got cold steel in my hand, a list of names carved to the bone, and my baby still speaks to me before the pull of a heavy trigger. No bullet can bring you back to me, you're hunting nothing but ghosts in endless rivers and dark valleys and what hurts the most
from Lush Stories - latest Sex Stories https://ift.tt/2PG4WvT
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