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Yes, the black hole within my eye is the only thing keeping you close. A stance of grayed jeans covering the scarred legs holding me up. No: hold me close and pour that familiar bile from your mouth to my ear. I know that you, my undead love, has cried more than any angel ever could. From your eyes, your liquefied heart has spilled upon the floor. Upon the floor, we have found our hands in erogenous zones. Rend my soft body into ****** flesh and drops of honey as I gather your arteries upon the luckless tiles and place them gently back upon your tongue.
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Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 10:02 AM UTC
An Undead Song
Yes, the black hole within my eye is the only thing keeping you close. A stance of grayed jeans covering the scarred legs holding me up. No: hold me close and pour that familiar bile from your mouth to my ear. I know that you, my undead love, has cried more than any angel ever could. From your eyes, your liquefied heart has spilled upon the floor. Upon the floor, we have found our hands in erogenous zones. Rend my soft body into ****** flesh and drops of honey as I gather your arteries upon the luckless tiles and place them gently back upon your tongue.
Written by
American
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 10:02 AM UTC
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