They grow in my mother’s garden. Their pure, silky petals reach out like the hungry arms of a lover — yearning … caressing … waiting … I want to touch them but I am afraid.

They look so peaceful and enticing, but just like a woman, they hide and deceive. Please, don’t get too close to my mother’s wild violets — their beauty is evil, their fragrance is death, and what lies beneath them is too horrible to see!

Condition:

Has minor edge wear

unread, unmarked, clean copy

no creases

comes in custom slipcase for protection

Weight .35 lbs
Viewed
Navigation
Close

My Cart

Close

Wishlist

Recently Viewed

Close

Great to see you here !

A password will be sent to your email address.

Already got an account?

Close

Categories