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That's the thing with being the quiet girl, only papers know what I say. Part I of The Zeros. | was featured | #3 in poetry |
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romanticism of monsters
careworn and smiling with a crooked grin, adoration slept in the wrinkles beside his eyes as he observed the mosaic beauty. she held his callused palm in hers and whispered to the moon; "tonight, we're monsters." romanticism isn't always beautiful.