In darkness her green eyes fain, and I, as if a moth on strings, danced to pipes her lust brings with a snifter of dark brandy. Skating on memories of my past as her fingers glide over my cast, with obsidian tentacles weaving, of a dowager's brooch singing. In darkness her green eyes fain, as she tamed my renaissance with webs of silken lips, as I came in for a soft landing. On a
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