#12062 - Her lips the colour of fury, Her skin, in the manner of old: White as the billowing towers Of cloud in the heartland of cold. A Goddess in Leather We met on the dusty crossroads, Of a nameless, silent town, A place by fate forsaken When the full moon wore a frown. Fading marks upon my body, Visions that linger in my eye Are all I now have left of her; These and the swirling, spectral sky.
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Michelle chang
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