Her name seeps from the tan lining and it drips in syrups down to my cottons,
Destiny the fleeing image in my head; no matter the colours, she is still pale,

And pale she shall be when I trace her features on my books, dear oh Destiny these are the best of words I can spew.

It so happens to be; somehow in my time of need, I found a sentiment I could not fathom which drew me back to you; it can only be Destiny; you and I,

Deep in these sheets there be a token of love, everlasting love and everlasting joy; have I found yet another toy? The doll house weeps; your company and closeness- demanding!

Crept beneath the woodrows and the bedside; I’ve painted yet another lament across my sleeping eyes, of course I am willing; has there been a time I was lying?

The burning desire that is you (in the flesh) causes me much harm to my soul and my heart; is this Holy Spirit above me fleeing? Such feelings in the night brings me closer to believing.

The cooing from the glass and the sighing in the high night from the rising in these pits to the warming of your face; let this be a reason to love me!

(As I have said before, let your heart follow me) bless me, warm me and soothe me; sweet surrendering all the golden waters; pour me, feed me your pale flesh.

In turn; dividing all the other cottonpiles of men and their women from vermin and their women and twos of sins and one of each hair; let there be chastity!

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