| Flame burns. World turns. Yet lives move along. Silenced when she said, "Poet, what's wrong?" Lips pressed to smooth cheek. Tucking back tress. Firm held and deep drawn, her head to his chest. & what would the fool say should steel slice his skin? "Twice loved. Twice lost. It happens again." They say he courts death. Indeed, it is true. Miss pale-eyed wonder, his world slows down for you. |
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