Red Hands — Perpetually Past Due

Drenched in the evidence of our crime, we became defiled. Your palms no more dark than mine. Crusting scabs ran along in a watered-down attempt to clean what was wrought. I remember that of which I am guilty. I cannot help but wonder if you even remember me. But I have learned not to trust any […]

via Red Hands — Perpetually Past Due

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