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A short story about a pathological liar. I didn't really think the content was enough to class this as adult; but be advised that there is
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(Shall I wear sleighbells so that you can hear me coming? Will you wear your fireplace smile and snowflake eyes?)
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your voice, like wine at sunset
and the solace in the silence in your eyes.
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Dreaming's our perversion:
it's only fetishists who hope.
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It took us years to perfect
the art of awkward silence;
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And we're living
anywhere but here.
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Our loose lips are sinking ships,
beneath probing fingertips and descending hips.
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You really were something,
(you really are something else).
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I tango to no deity's song;
Yet none may call me faithless.
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Strike up the band and play me a picture;
Sour notes are never hit.
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APTP task with picture inspiration, sense specification, single-word word bank and word limitation.
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