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Marilyn's Bungalow I'm sorry, but there really were soft pink lights and they simply enhanced her porcelein, alabaster luminous...yes, all of the above, skin She moves lovingly and slowly through the rooms stroking the back of a chiar as she glides by, smiling sweetly at the sun though feminine curtains purring into the white phone with that baby-breath-baby-soft voice pink candles are lit in the parlor she sits at a dressing table staring into a blurry reflection, glass in hand slowly moves to the bed, sleeping with nothing on but the radio as the glass slips to the floor and the phone goes unanswered |
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