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Rags of Moonlight

Sweetly softly

My baby sing

me a lullaby

of beautiful lies

If your heart

is in the palm

of another;

throw a blanket

over my cage;

Leave me in the dark

The Truth is

only as true

as its own lie.

I beg you now

spare me the

pangs of sorrow

Lie to me; tell

me that you love

me while you

close your eyes

So long as your body is true

Wrapped in the

pale old rags of moonlight,

I shouldn't care if

your words are only

a careful slight of hand


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'Hope, you don't have to use it on your wedding night.'

She handed the pistol to Hope, right after the vows, right before the reception.

'I'm just kidding, darling. Don't worry. He's a good man. You did well sweetheart. He's a good man. You'll be fine.'

Hope's paper-thin smile tried to grow as she stared at her grandmother's reflection in the mirror. The mother-of-pearl grip sparkled in her grandmother's hand, bathed by the Chapel's cheap buzzing lights.

'There's a bullet for you, just in case.'

Hope had left the gun on the table.

A week earlier, drunk off self-pity, she had taken it out of its case and walked to the kitchen, where she stuck the barrel in her mouth and proceeded to take pictures of herself to send to Ray.

In a rare instance of good fortune, her phone ran out of battery before she could indulge her sense of pithy revenge. She woke up and pried open her tear-salted eyelashes then made sure to delete an…