The water in her womb, my first home.
Giggling and crying in her arms, my second.
Breaking down and sobbing, my third.
Moving on and being shielded by her optimism, my fourth.
Complaining and crying and then feeling sorry, my fifth.
Copying her style and applying her makeup secretly, my sixth.
By combining all these tits and pieces of my life,
She is my home.
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