May. 8th, 2004

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His eyes could not penetrate teh dark, the glare of black on glass. Could not enter the reflection in front of him and so was left imagining.

Pain in the hands, a feeling like smoke between the joints. NO, like mucus hovering on the top lip. Crude, tickling, unforgettable. What does he plan for a gift for her? WHat will unbend the twists in their loving?

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May 2009

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