Dora Egan
Thy Macabre Poem
Meticulous footsteps in the dark,
approaching perilously, but rakishly,
forming perfect shapes in the stone cold concrete.
That is all I see, in this debauched agony, my love.
Macabre memories of Thee,
and Thy brazen attitude.
It is all I see, my love, my porcelain doll,
anticipating Thy arrival,
and hoping, hoping for more.
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