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I wish they were you, but their hands are too soft... marked with none of the callouses that decorate the skin of your hands. I wish they were you, but they taste of strawberries and in my dreams, you taste of cinnamon. Don’t apologize to me because I wish every damn time they were you. Their bodies lack the scars that paint your body like a canvas I never get to fully appreciate. So please don’t act as though you are at fault because I can only ever wish they were you and I can never have you. Not in this lifetime.