sonnet -4

His intentions are only pure within
The dark abyss centering his pupils' holes.
And yet the white backdrops are still glaring,
Evoking the last purity of his soul.
She's nothing until her mind starts to stray,
Yet he doesn't even need instructions now.
He'll still check his cards; it's artful child's play,
Hidden there's guilt he wishes he could avow.
"Never again" once more at the tip of her tongue,
Two pink gutters run, taps of sentiment.
It isn't the first time the "never" is shunned,
Ground pulled from beneath her, a routine descent.
As he blows on the fleshy groove behind her ear,
She knows she'll never be able to steer clear.

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