Curious how free a fellow or gal can feel to reveal (or at the very least allude to) the secret of the interior
when promised a closed door, or a mask and a dark room or the cover of night.
I recall finding
And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy dark eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams-
(poe)
scrawled on the bathroom wall of a beloved haunt
and thinking, someone's walking around with that feeling and does
anybody know it.
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