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Grooms
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Aisha
Aisha, do not focus on the ring. Energy, romance racing through your jeans. And down the hall, parents wishing they were dead because someone somewhere put a promise in your head.
'Does it feel alright? How does it feel?' Nailed to the floor. Your ponytail goes on for days. Forevermore, you're lacerated, un-abstained. Activity is enough when activity is in love.
'Does it feel alright? How does it feel?' These are my primitive feelings on sophisticated dealings
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