fingernails white, polished and perfectly even, to match the marble tile, chosen out of a thousand. 'it sets the mood,' she said, with a memory shuffling it's feet in her excited eye. remembering when she went to the seashore and gathered a pail full of the prettiest, pale shells to give her dying brother. she'll start to cry now, or else shake her
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the love relates after we relize the cup we are filled is almsot the same looking in HIS eyes.
and wrath and loath and wait and tears and wail and pain and kind and best and relate. begin the war only we can start.
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