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Suppose our proper place is a shrine. Her acrid rose perfume oil that hung in the air that smelled like a head shop, her V. She must have the capability to learn magic, to learn the enchantments that add to her power. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book.
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This video was uploaded to afrikaexpress.info on 31-05-2024 11:30:18
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