With each sniff you grow weaker, and your little sweater fetish doesn’t help the matter. You’re mine with each inhale, hold, and release. Feel me from the inside out. Serve me with your corporeal body, and absorb me through your ethereal state. I have an immense amount of pull on you already, just add a “pop” of assistance, and you have the recipe for a perfect storm. Breatheeeeeeee.

 

 

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