Her skin was my favorite to touch; it was softer than anything I had ever felt. Whether it was her hands, her knees, her neck, or her back, my hands were in heaven whenever they were near her. She was a quiet girl, but anyone could tell she was feisty little thing. With her lips painted red and her face always made up, she made all the men wonder. She was the only woman I have ever loved, but she always remained a mystery. I remember the first night we spent together and the first morning we woke. The sunlight hit her face just right, illuminating all of her freckles she tries so hard to hide. I asked her why she would want to hide them when they make her even more beautiful when one thinks that is even possible. She told me that with each spot she holds a secret and she can’t let the world know. I miss that girl; secrets, sunspots, soft skin, and all.

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