A LOVE PECK?

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I walk quickly this night

from who lurks out of sight.

The wind gives a whistle and a sigh

as strands of my hair begin to fly.

The moon hides its face.

I pick up my pace.

Shadows surround me.

Footsteps behind me.

Hands around my neck.

Is that a love peck?

He is taking my blood.

I die in a red flood.

THE DEAD GAME

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