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An English Sonnet to Molly and Jenkins, Who Work at a Cafe
How in the name of life did two doves
end up in the burning blazes of Hell?
It must have something to do with their love,
or perhaps death, or a curse, or a spell.
Those obsidian gates are never locked-
they simply flew out to reality.
And our devil, roaring with laughter, mocked
their own departure’s informality.
They flapped their pitiful winterly wings
and the flames flickered off their blackish beaks,
and the tiniest feather scalding stings
made patterns on their skin in crossing streaks.
They spend their days telling tea fortunes now,
a sunburned boy and girl, living somehow.
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The author would like to note that Molly and Jenkins are looking to turn back in to birds. If anyone reading this knows any demon-proof spells for turning birds turned to humans back in to birds, place the spells under the nearest birch tree and say the words the witches say to get things to work. Don't ask me what the words are, I'm not a witch.