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That Kind of Night.

The air,
masquerading as fresh,
pronounced by its chill.
Like you,
dirty inside.
Like me,
to revel in its filth.
The calm,
so quaint and notional
so unfamiliar,
discomfort alone prevails.
The scent,
controlling me effortlessly.
Like you,
unannounced and intangible.
The silence,
so unnatural; unreal.
And our truth clear as day,
no colours of ambivalence.
The night,
taunted as the unforgiving,
lair of the vile.
My home.
My safest place to hide.


About ancilla9876

I'm a young, female, Indian submissive and masochist. I am many other things, of course. But this blog mostly deals with the contents of my lede sentence.

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