These Boots Are Made For Walking

 Egyptian silk coat of earthen and autumn adorns her feline-like bodice, the queen's regalia. All consuming, destructive, an inferno. Shr knew better than to ask for things that she knew she could not have therefore for now she choose listening as her weapon. Two oceans emit sirenic calls, observing the man in his own toxic agony, they are their own moons, with their own gravitational pulls. Drawing in the weak, the desperate, even the confused and lonely. She was sweetly lethal, entrancing men, luring them into her scorching fires and drowning waters as she wept for herself yet this time she saw this man as an individual and not prey. The world was her playground and she will fall in sinful carnality even with Hannibal at her side however his agony was a sweet and painful song and could only be seen in that one moment where she shut his eyes tight. To that we can agree, I shall not be the first nor the last. a rolling sway, her hips, one would watch forever. The allurment of her every movements, gracious, emmaning regality and confidence through every pore. We use one another as pawns on the board of life. If they come at him, they come at me. eyes, gravity, a mirror to ones souls -- but what do you do when the soul is non-existent? then you stare into the abyss. Needn't worry, I shall be here for a while, might as well know each other, brother-in-law. corners lifted, crafted by a thousand artisans, time hold no candle to the beauty, her smile -- soft, a cascade of warmth and tranquility.