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The living statue
She sits by the fire
Stretches her body on the lounge
Her white dress
Spread out like the wings of a bird
Her veil covered in muffin cups
Hands on the sides of the sofa
Rested comfortably
Fingers together
The blue ring glistens and shines
In the bright light
Those violet eyes darken
Her lips part slightly
She’s like a bride young and innocent
She’s like a queen harsh and brutal
Her maids
Her companions stand behind her
Like porcelain dolls
Like manikins
Like statues
Idolising her beauty
She’s the queen
She’s the brutal one
Beauty is her mask
But her eyes
Eyes never lie
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