and light colored hair
frowns a sad frown
soft like childhood
fairy dust
his hands on
a soft woman
a lady
nice all right
soft like a feather
on his cheek
soft like lips
on his closed eyes
soft like
soft like
his hands on
soft like skin
slut turned nun
brita filtered
water boiled
happiness fired
swallowing wind
his hands on
his closed eyes
will not open
till she cries hard
wolf wolf!
and he sees
a running beast
and dies for her
only truth
hardly hardly
a rare sight
his hands on
being born
born again
from a virgin's
unsullied mouth
now opened
from heaven
down to hell
to the shouting
of the belle
his hands on
time
laid out
passed out
in pain
in passing
time in
time out
his hands on
she make him
oh does she
does she
she
make happy
him happy
hands on
hands on.
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