Letters

A Farewell To Tinder

One day I was lamenting you didn’t have any good taste in music, the next day you were in a band playing guitar; One moment I was fretting you were not romantic enough, the next you spoke soft French to me. We had a lot of fun the entire summer, didn't we? No strings nor worries, as if we were two kids thrown into a sugar jar, and we were tasting all the sweet the world could possibly offer minute by minute.

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