wicked gameA Poem by FaeryQueenthe interlude of your games happenstance, or: as it seemed ... like one of those makeshift enigmas that swizzle into a thundering tornado, whizzing right by you, forgetting, remembering... all over again... what happened to love at its finest with you , or... did you happen to conveniently roll out of bed this morning with a new attitude? i thought of you so little at first... not a new impression of you has come about since then. © 2019 FaeryQueen |
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Added on November 1, 2019 Last Updated on November 1, 2019 Author
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