Silver Moon Blood Red Lips
The bright moonlight bleaches colour from everything it touches, all around us is either black shadows or silver highlights. The full moon itself hangs above us in the black sky, full and heavy, as ripe and plump as a perfect peach. As ripe as you were once, my dearest, when you were in your pomp and prime. And I could neither squeeze you too much nor not enough, my sweet. You were so beautiful once, my love. As soon as I clapped eyes on you in your diaphanous gown as you flowed down that...