Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground.
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This video was uploaded to deportesfutbol.info on 09-07-2024 09:47:38
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