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BreadcrumbsPressed too close to cave painted stone,
Clouds of breath, orange and brown,
Still never bother
to hide your erection,
Held in my hand,
dug your fingernails in,
hurt my fingers,
left bite marks and kisses
Breadcrumbs left behind you.
Let me, please,
be the less-loving,
or let me cry pearls,
make a necklace when you leave.
Last Legs - SheIn a sack by the side of the rail-way tracks, a dark stain in the bag's material. Curled and folded she lay quiet and still amongst the brambles and nettles. She didn't shiver.
But she wasn't dead yet. She was still dying.
She'd felt her heartbeat slow gradually over the time she had been in the sack. How long had that been? She didn't know. Time had blurred a long time ago. Times when her heart was beating fast and when her heart was beating slow, that was the only time she knew. She closed her eyes and clung to her final experience of senses. The rustling of the wind outside her cocoon, the creatures. She could hear trains far away. She heard a bird scream.
She heard the blood crawling through her veins. Last legs.
Felt the cold. Felt the plastic digging into her wrists and ankles. It hurt. Not much. She felt her hair tickling her chin.
Opening her eyes she forgot to blink. She stared steady at the dim grey light that kept her company. She could feel a moistness. The
Red Letter Day - Prologue
So here I am, writing.
I’m writing, I’m writing – just as you told me to.
I’m writing, I’m writing, I’m writing.
Have you ever noticed that when the sun goes down, this flat changes? It does. The walls are white during the day and lingering brown at night. During the day, I’m with you and the light from outside paints the walls that heavenly color. But when that sun goes down, the demons wake and I’m alone again, even though you’re just a room away.
Somehow it seems less threatening tonight, and I think it’s because you’ve given me an assignment to try and fight off the darkness. You gave me a stack of papers and a pen and told me to write everything that comes to mind.
It’s a strange feeling to have complete freedom. These empty pages are mine to do whatever I please – I could even wipe my ass with them – but they’re also terribly intimidating. The blank page has always been a nemesis of man. It&
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More