A bright heart made on black steel was stolen at plain sight by a cute thief. I didn’t mean it, she said smiling; cleaning her hands with my shirt; no fault or regret will let her forget all the pain she played in my chest like a violin setting on chess a dark strategy of devotion; no perfume could smell so good as her poison, that’s how you begin to lose the notion… that’s how all the wheels are set in motion.

“I love this game”, [she laughs again], “sing for me”, [now touching my broken armor]…

The bitter sound of a heart dying is the sweetest song on the grief valley; as much as my love brings the tender touch of fire; I’ll been always willing to warm up you body…


a candel who would know

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