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autumn is a lovely pale skin English beauty with long ringlets of crimson.. haunting green bedroom eyes.. she lays herself bare to be crafted, molded, shaped in the perfect object of delight...What shall One do with this sweet creamy toy? The possibilities are endless...
a pretty pale canvas for the Master to paint.. tender soft cries like a whispering wind..
"Caressing the velveteen canvas - hung like a portrait to the wall--the marks left from His brush-He sighed looking at His picture-- kissing her crimson tears-whispering to her--"un beau portrait d'une fille"
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