His voice delicious with depth,
calls my name over an over. It rings even now in my room, the tug of clothing yearning to be off. Let's revert back to the beginning, when we were clean of cover. Waves of pain ripple 'cross the face of mine, As does the thought that this is just, another scene to you.
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Sydne Kilberg"She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something." Archives
February 2016
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