©2022 Michael Raven
waking feral forms the shed skin slips slough pulling willow white faces in mirror escapades could i... would i... may i... kiss you tonight? slowly silent her feet move ever chill as night calling her other she comes to me in slumber my dead love comes to me -- she wedded whispers such fog filled breath and fey: shed your skin and slip with me be wisp within the vale everso and evermore everso --
sceadugenga 
hauntingly beautiful
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