In your eyes

Reflected on rain-soaked glass dance the memories of what is but is not.  Only the moments forever relegated to history can be seen there.  Yet how often I feast upon images of contentment, of love.

Even as the predator takes at will, I lose myself in his eyes.  How can I be so enslaved?

A close-up of Vazra's face (168_6882)

[Vazra]

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