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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1378471
Insomnia, again...
"My, what red lips you have."
"All the better to kiss you with."
The moment we touched, I felt his poison seep through my veins.
They'll find us in the morning: legs, fingers, and lips intertwined.
No longer a tragedy.
© Copyright 2008 Marissa Macabre (marissamacabre at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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