Welcome
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 16, 2007
Clawingly sweet
Is it possible to run out of words with you? No, there is no way imaginable that I would let conversation run dry or even consider allowing you to slide off and drop me like a bad habit.

It's practically programmed in my systems to try, desperately and exceedingly, to keep you the least bit interested..to make you wonder, to keep you on the other end of that line, to make you say something; anything, 'til you're not (:

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