And poor, sweet Molly, dropped to the ground, like so much garbage.
You were exquisitely beautiful - standing against that wall looking so innocent – not posed like so many women do who have half as much to show off.
The winter wind has come a-calling and moans through cracks and crevices like so many ghosts visiting from hell, wailing and beckoning for me to join them.
Seems like so much death should be avoidable in this day and age.
Is it the danger you like so much?