The Devil Latch
Sonya Hartnett
The Devil Latch
Sonya Hartnett
He draws her close, envelops her as if with wings. She does not resist him or the kisses over her face when he tilts her chin up, she lets him, exposing the flesh of her throat. When she goes home that day she will wear the marks of the devil, the clinging smell of oil, the bruising of her neck.
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