We play at paste,
Till qualified for pearl,
Then drop the paste,
And deem ourself a fool.
The shapes, though, were similar,
And our new hands
Learned gem-tactics
Practising sands.
* * *
The Reader Behind My Words
Young Adult
Obey me, Dean. (Erotica)
FRACTURED Goodness
THE TRIBID HOCKEY GOD & HIS OBSESSION
The Boy I Wasn't Supposed to Love
THEY NEVER WANTED HER - NOW SHE'S UNAVOIDABLE
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