My arm was not what she needed, but the arm of someone else. My warmth…

Haruki Murakami
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My arm was not what she needed, but the arm of someone else. My warmth was not what she needed, but the warmth of someone else. ✨ Haruki Murakami (2011). Norwegian Wood, p.35, Random House
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My arm was not what she needed, but the arm of someone else. My warmth was not what she needed, but the warmth of someone else. ✨ Haruki Murakami (2011). Norwegian Wood, p.35, Random House

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