swan girl

March 16, 2010
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pale fire bones
in her wedding dress, bleeding bright
waiting to be torn asunder
crawling over corpses to get to
her beloved

just try and put a sword
in those dainty hands, she'll come home
smelling like salt water and brine
talking about the caged sparrows
she saved

her honey-glaze skin
it tells stories and spills secrets in his brain,
as if he'd ever forget the girl
who crossed sand and sea
for him

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