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Desires unmasked in the heat of the night,
She dances on edges of wrong and right.
In the pulse of the moment, boundaries blur,
Where pleasure and pain intertwine in her purr.
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In red and black, she walks the night,
A silhouette against the fading light.
With a cigarette held between her lips,
Smoke curls softly, a dance that slips.
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Lola Zaza Crowley (1907 1990) Aleister Crowley’s daughter.
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In the twilight of an endless night,
A skull takes flight, serene and white.
Wings unfurl, their feathers wide,
A spectral guide through the darkened tide.
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ɪɴᴠᴏᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀɪɴᴛꜱ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜱᴀᴄʀᴇᴅ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀꜱ ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟ ꜰᴀʀ
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ꜱᴍᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴋɪʟʟꜱ ʙʟᴀʜ ʙʟᴀʜ ʙʟᴀʜ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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ʀᴏꜱᴇ ᴏ'ᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢʀᴀꜱꜱʏ ʟᴀᴡɴ,
ʙᴇꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ-ꜰᴏᴏᴛᴇᴅ ᴅᴇᴇʀ
ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɢʀᴀᴢᴇᴅ ᴀ ꜱᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴀᴡɴ.
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you know that death is the most beautiful part of life, right? death is beautiful because we all fear death. and fear is the most amazing emotion of all because it creates complete awareness. it brings you to now, and it makes you truly present, that’s nirvana. that’s pure love. so death is pure love.
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as the statue gazes from above, steadily and intently . . . i wonder if it can see me like i can see it
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gateway into the soul of an innocent . . . or evil
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wearing ur hand as a necklace n hearing ur heavy breaths in my ear
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⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧
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