Liar

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He is intoxicating. Like a rotten pomegranate. 

vicious wine. blood, the crimson gold. 

The sight is sweet. 

Scarlet silk draped over a carcass, a poor cover.

Bile. 

Rubies in a nest of ivory. 

Crushed like a blooded cerebrum. It shivers through my intestines. 

It reaches up. 

Vilely sweet.

Disgusting. 

Bitter. 

Iron. 

The colour of poppies. 

The colour of death. The taste, regretted wine. 

I regret him.

Fuck.

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