| Caress |
| Rain lashing against the opaque panes cold ice pellets rattling a tattoo on my skull See, the draft it slips under the drapes blankets huddled whispering a sweet lullaby to the harsh rattle of diseased lungs What else do you want? but the rain is the only love you�ll know That, and the hum of machines � |
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| � 2003 Kyle Altis. All rights reserved. |