BLACK.

WanderingViolet

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Through the looking-glass, they saw darkness.
All they saw was black, thick and opaque.
Her eyes were a different story.
What she saw was the beauty that is dark.
What she saw was her imagination running wild.
What she saw were the possibilities. Bright and new.
And, all she felt was a comfort that was bone deep.
She felt the ring of familiarity.
She knew the darkness.
It embraced her from the inside out.
It was a part of her.
It was her.

-a-

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About williwash

A writer, a human rights activist, an adventurer and a poet.
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