The war here is unfortunately bad. The south has put up a good fight. As the sun sets, arms are put down so we can retreat to our camps. The fighting is brutal as all sides are hit with casualties.
I try to think of you as i head into battle. I keep the cloth you handed me before i left. I can still smell your perfume on it. At night i dream of your silky skin, the curve of your thigh. The thought of you pressed against me calms my brain.
Off to sleep now
Dreaming of you...
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