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Enough

by Sasjah Miller

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Sometimes it is enough to sit by a fire, the smell of roasting meat letting you know you wonít be hungry much longer.
Sometimes it is enough to watch the flames lick the dark of the night away, your companionís thigh resting comfortably against your own.
Sometimes it is enough to fall asleep with the back of your eyelids tainted red with the dying flames and with his breath breezing gently over the back of your hand.
Sometimes it is enough to wake up during the night and realize he must have rolled up against you in his sleep.

 

The End

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