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Aug 2018
Dear Heart, I can hear your silence, I feel it screaming,
without any defense, poisoned by wounds and smoke,
dressed up only with pain and numbness, as a stroke,
without an umbrella, in the summer rain weeping.

You are chained into the rough cage of fear,
on your shoulders, I can feel the pressure,
after all this time, the betrayal still hurts, it's still so clear,
in your boutique are not just delights and pleasure.

There are also fiery words, thrown into the wind,
causing a devastating drought in the soul, begging
the malicious smiles that spread ruthlessly thinned
flames on their nostrils, like a bleeding dragon.

Promise yourself that the drought will not dry your will
to feel once more the sweet scent of love given by a golden fish,
with your heart in your palm you will light endlessly, as you wish,
without the eternal dilemma. That is my only thrill!
Irina BBota
Written by
Irina BBota  42/F/London
(42/F/London)   
  919
     Moonlight, Jermon, --- and Gulishta
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