Here's to the maimed antecedent, the werewolf-brother Marchingband and how you drove her into the arms of infatuating Love; you proffed for sacrifice what little comfort you might have had from the blighting imagery. We wait for the colours of occulted blood and rust to fade and the only blue and green come from sunset sunrise sunspot
Ajna rules
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Rum and tea for three it is. :)
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I'll be there.
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