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poster yourself
If there ever was a tatse so refreshing
From Dawn is your haven, From sunset is ours, and although you would not notice us walking beside you in the streets at night we watch you with vigilance, and again you would not notice, not until we follow your footsteps in silence, not until we stare into your eyes with a thirsty look, not until our cold, pale hands and lips are around your neck.
Lips folded over your skin, leaving a red trail of passion. Passion for what i am doing, passion for the sweet crimson nector running through your viens, hidden underneath your very skin..