That sun silk hair of yours always had this amazing property, it made it seem as if you were gliding through everyday life. And when you spoke from behind those coal-black eyes, a hush would surround me, and even the flames on candles would stop their flutter and pay attention to what you would say.
Most times, it would be nothing, and I love nothings. At other times it will be about your villain boss and Scooty escapades! I loved them as well.
And now that you don't speak with me no more, faintly falls your whispers on cold cold snow. It is getting to be cold, and I never loved the snow.
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