Last night I dreamt the strangest dream; I dreamt you were the Eiffel Tower. I climbed and climbed to kiss your lips and halfway there, about your hips, dreamt words of love trickled down to reach my ears while I grasped your fingertips. Pushing through the tourists admiring Paris from your chest, I went on to climb your collarbone, your neck, and right at the sight of your curls a flutter of butterflies unfurled. My eyes met your grin and while my feet furrowed a foothold onto your chin, I reached onto my toes and kissed your lips with my lips, and nudged your nose with my nose
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