her cold hand
on your
shoulder is not
imagined
but real,
the chill, the rise
of hair
on the back
of your neck makes
you shiver
and turn around,
there are things
going on in
this house
unseen, but
heard, the pipes
creak, there are
footsteps
in the hall,
a whisper
in your ear.
on your
shoulder is not
imagined
but real,
the chill, the rise
of hair
on the back
of your neck makes
you shiver
and turn around,
there are things
going on in
this house
unseen, but
heard, the pipes
creak, there are
footsteps
in the hall,
a whisper
in your ear.
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