Her Red Lips

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Lust or Love?
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Scars

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Do not show me your tempting perfections. Show me your scars.

The Warrior

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Be brave, my little stardust.

The Girl You Knew

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Sometimes, her memories visit me on lonesome Sundays, when the city around me dims down in silent melancholy and the clouds assemble to paint the sky in white and blue in the sunless wintry afternoons.