You'll wear flowers in your hair, not subtly either. You'll look like a vigorous florist's display. The previous day, you will have worn a bikini, the weather in Norfolk demanding it. You'll keep yourself hidden after that. Maybe a year later, your dress will be so bereft of material that your lack of underwear will attract admiring glances. Another subdued week, maybe a walk wearing his heavy great coat, will signal something closing. Hopefully something opening. You'll regret nothing. Not the kisses. Not the body crashes. Having lain in the ground for over two years, finally you'll let him rest.
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"Classic"
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