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Paulo Mysla Jan 2013
Why is your voice interrupting
the rain.  I’m getting excited about
the wetness of the
wind, when I get distracted by
your break neck face.
Mount me until the oil’s
dried up. Let my disposition come
undone, and I’ll breathe in your snakes.
Don’t worry,
I won’t let you catch
My eye
And turn my
words to Stone.

— The End —