i see finite eyes glistening with deep rouge red as little girls with tangled black hair snarl at me, those pretty butterflies. she's returned. and she doesn't feel sorry for anyone.

my hands are battered from brushing her away, but she's left five green-fused-purple stripes around my wrists. she hisses into my ear and all i feel is painfully excruciating sharp wind. her bedroom eyes direct me as i lower in her presence, because only she knows.
but she is my realm, she is my exotic beauty, our souls intertwined in a sensual contract. my cries convey as laughs and i enjoy her slits. our waltz fit only the moonlight.

only she, she is my only one. and only she'll ever know.

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"a photo and abstract writing blog. filled with recurring themes of 'nostalgia' 'water' 'fog' and this... lost childhood love perhaps."

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