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  • Writer's pictureJames Kidac

i grew up a little

i hear you. the words you say, poised and confident as you will ever be, come off sharp and clean. your hand presses against your lips as if finishing your last words to a failure and with eyes so piercing you seem to see all my flaws in the dread of my own. mesmerised. her words swayed him into the boy he always was, searching about the edges and gleam of her last words to him, as if they were a soulful sutra weaved in precisioncy and afterthought. after all, he didn't know what the others did. a student puppeted in the fancy of her heart, eyes closed in happiness, Jack wasn't thinking about the obsurdity of his mistress. a master of her own in magic spells, he was her apprentice. after all, he didn't know what the others did.

#Personalblog #2011

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