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[02 Dec 2009|02:55pm] |
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i was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole. you held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold. oh what a contrast you were to the brutes in the halls. my timid young fingers held a decent animal. over the ramparts you tossed the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers. tied to a brick, sweet as a song, the years have been short but the days were long.( • )
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