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Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2011 1:07 am
by LajesticVantrashellofLob
I could not tell you about his smile. I no longer know what color his hair was, and I cannot remember how it felt to run my hands through it. The warmth of his embrace is lost to me. In my youth I had wanted to remember these things, and had spent many hours indulging myself of them. I swam in oceans of sensation, soaking up memories of him to store for another day.

But over the years, most of my memories of him have dried up.

These are the two things I remember:

His tentacles and his unpronounceable name.