Breakfast on Pluto
Ice blue eyes
And lips of perfection
She was a thing of beauty.
When Billy walked in
He sang like a jukebox and she was his muse
Until came - the Goddess of Destruction
With her swing of flowers,
Father behind glass,
Reflections or a red hue.
The truth came in whispers...
How true love always evaded her
And the Phantom Lady was forever lost.
12/9/2014 08:53:19 am
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Audrie is a writer and editor living in Illinois. She is a fan of all things horror and pop culture.