To be reminded of it again. yes The ache and bleed. It was as if we were born for it. The color of crimson that trickles down our thighs in grievance, another love lost. But I move in unison with my lover as he captivates me. have you heard of a sweeter irony? Than the ones who are a prisoner of love. Have you ever held a woman as she shudders in your arms? Tears unknown even to her, as to why they fall. We are comprised of this it seems. The salt in our waters, the copper in our blood. Born for the fall... we are the women of shadow and lightening. Buried and frightening, yes is simply this... the ache and need of what we long for and is taken instead by greed. |
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