Walking alone on an ice filled Brighton Beach in Brooklyn I was miserable. Nothing beautiful about cold sand. Summertime was different and alive. The beach was filled with young lovers who laughed as they bathed together in the warm ocean. None cared that this beach would in Novembers be cold and empty. Making love tonight was all that mattered.
Walking alone on an ice filled Brighton Beach in Brooklyn I was miserable. Nothing beautiful about cold sand. Summertime was different and alive. The beach was filled with young lovers who laughed as they bathed together in the warm ocean. None cared that this beach would in Novembers be cold and empty. Making love tonight was all that mattered.
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