I remember walking into a shadowy metropolis bar. Along the capital’s veins. Where fluorescent lights flickered like far worlds descending. The jazz blue. The marvel green. The impassioned red. Decorating the revellers crescent faces. Separated by the charcoaled darkness and coloured beams. On the faces of empowered youth. Nonchalant eyes wandered through the flow of cosmic sound. I made my way past vibrant bodies that the music had possessed in desire. Neglecting the musical twitch conquering my own. The embittered gin introducing itself to the state of the mind as I caught a glimpse of her face for the very first time. Her sclera, overshadowing, the dark essence of her iris and her pupil. A panther, in her elegance. Ruled by mystique, and by fire. With a royal confidence, she approached. In Mediterranean voice; she whispered a sensual verse close to my ear. Death black curls, thicker than rope. Strawberry lips, enriched to capture the eye of anyone who sought to gaze at her regal stature. For is this not what this world, it seeks? A night of lust? A voice to speak? Explorations through, foreign bodies and beds. To immerse in pleasure To immerse in pleasure. Until death.
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