ebon eyes vixen

just wasting your time in these circular discussions of pre-revolutionary war statuettes of dominatrix

spinning about among the branches of the canopy that shields us from the blank stare of god herself

rationality is fleeting like pre-orgasm promises whispered in the sweaty sheets of adolescent radiance in shades of need

begone
begone

frail vixen with ebon eyes, your sharp ivory fangs shall pierce not

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