Pretty lies

A cool feeling slips down my throat. It’s that feeling when the pendulum of desire has faltered too greatly out of order. When a lover, like a bull fighter, hides blades beneath their cloak of secrets.

In innocent words, truth is discovered. The ability to see the truth despite whatever distortion is present is both a gift and curse for some.

My eyes grow dark, lips thirst greatly for a drink. I wish it was winter, then I wouldn’t be the only one feeling cold.

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