Murder she courts

Modern Mystic Mother

The primal rises and in a bid to mate the master, / swaggers their jabber cocky, sauntering / towards the court or unseen courts. / The queen watched bemused / a coy smile stretched across her face. / a wicked grin indeed she had hatched to begin. / And aloud she diascrived;

Bring that poet to me

Kneel before your fucking queen.

Speak now or I will sweetly

gently slowly softly

Bring us both down to our knees.

I will lay you down, calm your heart with my deep doe eyes that are brown

You will smile

And my knee I will press down onto your Adams apple

And repo my gift that allowed you to fucking speak.

Twisting the sampo slowly in her hand, the golden treasure that was unrightfully taken. Jealousy had filled his heart when she was favoured over he. So he stole a bite of the…

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