Tryst
Tryst Within the still, fire coveted in lace a giving of the gift of flesh and flame. Cold curves of stone have found their resting place timeless, though time we do not dare to tame. The days have...
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A Sasha sonnet, such a treat! The days have been so long in journey here our hearts pounding as horses hooves, to ground. So sure of foot and spirit swift as air we raced the wind and won without a...
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