Description
Not a day goes by I don’t think of you, Laura. My lost queen, burned into my memory— your silhouette dancing in the night. The golden strands of hair fallen from your braid, your essence illuminated by the moon and studio lights in the distance. Axe in one hand, whiskey in the other, singing, laughing. I couldn’t see my own end game and I let you slip away. All this time and still what I wouldn't do for a sip of your mercy. I would sacrifice every piece to undo the hurt I caused you. Oh, how I hurt over losing you. Still a small price to keep you with me. I just cannot let you go.
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