A Literati Mafia Collaboration
She was radical in her views, a firebrand, a revolutionary, but she had this fiery allure that I couldn’t resist. Maybe I should call it love or just feisty infatuation. I’m not sure anymore, but she controlled all my senses like a puppeteer controlling puppets in heat.
I spent years with a funeral cortège, surrounding me with their black coats, beards and black hats, but she drew me away with her allure, her sensuality and her beauty. I felt myself losing control; slipping, sliding, falling and fading under her spell, and she unleashed this heart trapped in a rib-cage of stone, helped it break free; burst, splinter and smash, until an incandescence enveloped my substance.
I spent all those years fueling my fucking prison cell paranoia, but she helped me believe, beget an heir of trust from a soul-womb of rotten weeds. I love her for…
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