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Footnote: Whitechapel, Autumn
In a dark alley,
fogs chokes on its own softness,
like a shroud over
some dying whore---her throat slit,
bleeding out on rough pavement.
Kyakuchuu
[jlc]
In a dark alley,
fogs chokes on its own softness,
like a shroud over
some dying whore---her throat slit,
bleeding out on rough pavement.
Kyakuchuu
[jlc]
