I like a look of agony,
Because I know it 's true;
Men do not sham convulsion,
Nor simulate a throe.
The eyes glaze once, and that is death.
Impossible to feign
The beads upon the forehead
By homely anguish strung.
* * *
THEY NEVER WANTED HER - NOW SHE'S UNAVOIDABLE
Young Adult
Entangled With My Hockey Step-brother
FRACTURED Goodness
FORBIDDEN ICE: CLAIMING THE CAPTAIN'S SISTER
THE TRIBID HOCKEY GOD & HIS OBSESSION
The Boy I Wasn't Supposed to Love
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