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by Angelina Taylor Jun 3, 2013 category : Dark, fantasy / unexplained
The glass is half full with black wine which I have drank in obedient surrender. I can feel its power slowly engulfing me. May I finish it? May I throw it away in dismay? In any case the choices are seductively fake. So I wait. And fully breathe in this translucent mistake.
by poisoned tears
I like this poem