Timid steps drain down bright corridors, rustling leaves trapped in shafts of cold light. Tears are staid. Comfort never gives like bone snows inside her.
You know, Darling David, I've read this poetry many times. Is this simply a moment of imagery captured? For I'm left wondering how it is that you know me. Bey x
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You know, Darling David, I've read this poetry many times. Is this simply a moment of imagery captured? For I'm left wondering how it is that you know me. Bey x
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