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Pulse Poetry
Wednesday, 26 July 2006
come woman whose whispers are like her songs...

come woman

whose whispers are like her song

whose black eyes reflect on me the sun

pass through me in your form

that soul

that enters my vein in coldness.

fly around my head like my thoughts of you

where my fantasies exist in no dimentions

live there like a leaf with withered blades

stay there

and I will stare at you

look at you if you want as a keep living

in my sufferings.


Posted by luisbaring at 1:59 AM EDT
Updated: Wednesday, 26 July 2006 2:06 AM EDT

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