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Welcome home Berlin

And what heaven to return home to your clean sheets and everything just so, prints on the wall and Russian Breakfast in the canister, the snow falling outside and candles flickering inside, your tummy full with hot soup and sandwiches from Sgaminegg, Gieseking's Debussy on the piano.


dear s - and though your distance always inspires a little regret, I am glad too that you are nestled safe home.

You dear, I am glad too, though sorry our paths couldn't cross. Can't we go camping some early autumn though? I have daydreams of apple orchards and flannel-lined sleeping bags.

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