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Knight of the Heart (knightsheart)

Poetry, Short stories, Blog, Titan

It hurts being shot,
More if she you love shoots you,
We’d barely escaped,
Stalin’s killing fields to here,
In New York City.

We found cupid’s blood,
In a basement secret room,
Dipped the ribbon,
She typed Grey loves me with it,
I loved her she smiled.
Drawing her Tokarevs
Firing both into my chest,
See you in Hell, Dear.
Shoulda left Yana crying there,
Over her love’s body.
Ouch hurts worse to live,
Russian spy with love’s potion,  
There was much to do,
Must find her, return her slugs,
For I am in love.  


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