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Literature Text
The faded red string
that ties our letters together
makes my eyes weep
as I remember our secluded Sundays
where we would dance in violet ballrooms
and share our darkened delights.
Oh if the world was a kinder place, my love
where whispers didn't start the fires
perhaps those Sundays would have been ours
forever.
that ties our letters together
makes my eyes weep
as I remember our secluded Sundays
where we would dance in violet ballrooms
and share our darkened delights.
Oh if the world was a kinder place, my love
where whispers didn't start the fires
perhaps those Sundays would have been ours
forever.
Please do not download this without my permission. Send me a note/message if you wish to download this. Thanks 
Salutations to all. Long time, no write, once again. I wrote this a while ago whilst trying to pan out a proper storyline for a story with the same title. Long story short - it didn't work out. Perhaps one day down the line I may be able to pick it up again. It was one of those few stories that you don't care about how it 'reads' because you're just trying to get something off your chest.
Anyhow. This is just a quick...thing...to prove that I'm still here.
LL xx
Salutations to all. Long time, no write, once again. I wrote this a while ago whilst trying to pan out a proper storyline for a story with the same title. Long story short - it didn't work out. Perhaps one day down the line I may be able to pick it up again. It was one of those few stories that you don't care about how it 'reads' because you're just trying to get something off your chest.
Anyhow. This is just a quick...thing...to prove that I'm still here.
LL xx
© 2014 - 2024 Lady-Lettuce
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