Tequila Crypt
By evangelina
a beautiful morning to reach in the softness; cradles of sticks to offer a bed. terror escapes the silent voices as the moon lifts its head. gently pick up the tender ones when they are at their worst, movement too quick to keep up and the sunrise will find them dead. Written April 1st, 2002 © on Apr 01 2002 02:39 PM PST 10 • 0 • 1
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"a beautiful morning to reach..."