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A wicked wind touches,
slowly burning nose and lips.
A warm hand moves to cover
and the footsteps crunch.
And the footsteps still crunch.

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NILAKSHI008This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Jan. 25, 2014 at 4:27 pm
well written :)
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