biih-yaazhi: My love is the evening breeze touching your skin The gentle sweet singing of leaves in the wind The whisper that calls, after you in the night And kisses your ear in the early light You don’t need to wonder, you’re doing fine And my
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biih-yaazhi: My love is the evening breeze touching your skin The gentle sweet singing of leaves in the wind The whisper that calls, after you in the night And kisses your ear in the early light You don’t need to wonder, you’re doing fine And my
