Easier to dance with yours
than take a chance with mine.
Broken sticks, stones,
words are made for hurting,
but I wear the devil well,
and I’ve heard you whisper
in your sleep that
you like it with me in hell.
Easier to dance with yours
than take a chance with mine.
Broken sticks, stones,
words are made for hurting,
but I wear the devil well,
and I’ve heard you whisper
in your sleep that
you like it with me in hell.
Firey poetry!! 🙂
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Grrrrrr! Thank you!
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You’re welcome! 🙂
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