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By galadrial Date: 2002 Oct 06 Comment on this Work [[2002.10.06.15.29.21821]] |
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My word, they say fine feathers make fine birds. My hair falls where you left it, clouded about my shoulders and it is a spider silk shawl, that you would spangle with the stars you see in my eyes. I am no bird be it of paradise or prey I am no fine creature save when you fix your look at me, drink in my sigh, and blame me for the kiss I never planned. |