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Jan 2010
The white dawn
flares red at it's roots.
And each eye towards the sun
sets fire to the heart.

Digesting sparks.
Mud with broken glass.
Toys stolen from children.
My lover's heart
chewed into bits.
Blood and bile
on my lips.

My love is not docile.
My fury is pure.
In the wake of our passion
we brace to endure.
Written by
Jorge Antonio Lopez
620
 
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