Goes street. I can see it from afar. Proud. Straight. Aware of her beauty. He has dark eyes, straight hair, full lips. Long, perfect legs. Figure dancers. Going in my direction. Skirt sways the hips. Cigarette congeals in my mouth. I stare. Then she turns around and smiles. Gently lifts the corners of the mouth, lips, separate. And goes on.
Whore, an island after his death.
She passes by the street. I can see her from the distance. Proud. So straight. Aware of her own beauty. Dark eyes, her straight. Long, ideal legs. Like a dancer. She is walking in my direction. Short skirt on her hips waving. The cigarette is stuck in my lips. And old. And then she turns and smiles. She rises the corners of her mouth, lips opens. And she walks away.
Fuck it, I'm going to have enough of Sleep When I die.
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