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A slow breaking and mending
of blood and bone
fit for the poorest
of ivory souls.
Pour tomber, pour courir,
pour mourir; no less!

Mademoiselle
No one, to you,
do tell.
A dream,
perhaps a nightmare,
that died in your arms
much too long ago.


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Wednesday, May 30, 2007
ABC 1, 2, 3
Haven't we wasted enough time not understanding? No conditions, no expectations..don't worry, I'll give what I can't hope to take; all I needed was for you to know. That's all I've needed, this whole time. No more secrets, no more walls..you're the one I'd let those damn things down for, at the snap of a finger. Oh look there's secret number one..

I'd ask you to try not to be afraid to fall..but I think I'll wait down below, instead.

No steps to take, no promises to break, no labels or rules or fucking complications (we've wasted enough time on those, as well)..I love you..it's that simple. Don't you dare tell me not to.

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