Old Love

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Her shadow licks,
the wall and
straddles the dark.
Soft touch to wood,
panes of light,
illuminate her deathly,
seductive,
face.

Shrieking she floats
for hundreds of years,
her blood running dry,
after each and every
kiss.

Monotony drives her.

Waiting Raidne,
she snakes through
the bed clothes and holds.

Her antidote is pure,
poison.
Monday, December 3, 2007
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