Until the poets run out of rhyme
Joined March 2019
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Never forget who stood by you before the healing, before the better days, before you could smell a freshly baked croissant and experience the full breadth of human civilisation. Just got a new nasal inhaler. I am nothing if not a man of culture
A gentle sun overhead, a slow stroll through the park, hours among museum halls, and the eve eventually brought us back to a table set for dinner. Wine was poured, someone began talking. The rest of the night seemed content to follow
