Belle Muerta Paramecia.

[Drew]

meanwhile he's cradling fetal position questions of whether this tryst leyline is leading to something or other. as the question posed, a queerer query of whether his open hand is just one amongst the many. rose soft pedals for palms, and the wonder if shes the fabled angel worth the wing span (if there ever were any).if his verbal caresses equate to a small of the back shivering sort of orotund, or if all the "forever endeavors" in letters are just invitations to the dance in the vampire bund.
stouter head lads know better, from what once was then can never quiver insides anew. that in this place, this time, this scene, and to each face, there are no such things as innocent ingenues. only aimless siren echo assassins that just so happen to be easy on the eyes. meanwhile there he lay, fetal position with questions while hours dribble from his chin to keep track of the day. if this leyline crosses yours, if these rose pedals hands match the fray, or if there are but merely quils begitting thorns in this effeminate garden, as wiser misogynists would say...