He sang so pretty and dressed in rainbows that auraed his skin.
Songs and rainbows reshaped her vision and made her heart dance to new rhythms.
As did his whispers whose echoes became the music of oboes, the lilt of new mornings to come in an Eden that disavowed time and the death that comes with it.
She took him on home and into her bed and he bled her.
The oboes croaked to a stop.
He left her h…
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