picks up his sword

Silence until an octave drops, vibrato and a dulled flatness surrendered to the late night like some other men do. This is how I feel, so he picks up his sword and goes but I really like the music, trying to discover who we are. Who am I? Who is she? His tastes were relaxed as the microphone hovered atop a tall metal pole, waiting.

David Cain, Song of Songs

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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