The wine flowed from her throat right on up through her nose – a barrel of fierce pretty laughs to be had
Wasn’t she glad she left the boyfriend at home
May as well have been black and white for all of the rather blasphemous colour unattached to it
These carefree days are soon to be numbered – a mismatched marriage made right at the doors of hell
Unwillingly prepared, forcefully pushed to step her oh so precariously manicured feet on in
One utterly lost step at a forlorn time
Sit on back, snap a pirouette cigarette from your wallet and breathe – the poisons the same just seems this particular one takes a little more time

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