• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 12
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Dear Spectre

I have something to tell you.

I singled out this pen. Umber through silken paper. Dusk in flowing feather. Burnt sienna fur slipping away

Caught it – no.

I have something to tell you.

Ink in carmine dread. Vermilion etched in silken paper. Cerise in flapping plume. Scorched claret sodden and dejected.

Drip.

Drip.

Plink.

I have something to tell you.

Seal in amber coating. Flaxen stamped in a spineless box. Golden in lemon fumes. Charred lily-livered and spiritless.

Sputter.

Sputter.

Sputter.

You and I in false wrapping. The waning reminiscences. Cerulean eyes in fancy beryl. Don’t doubt the azure graze of ice diamonds. Let’s play once more.

Till the next rendezvous.

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