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The squalid honey of this urban hive that sways and quivers in Escolta's arms assaulting viscous currents, I've survived to witness time dissolve in waters warm.      When monsoon whispers calmed the fev'rish night, hyacinths surren'dring to kundíman songs seduced I was to words meant to ignite another's lust. But still 'tis I that long      In time, desire has rotten into liquor and putrid nectar spoiled in unloved lips-- this rancor that I spit into this river to curse the farewell of your westward ship      and centuries have passed, yet here I bathe Manila's vein that bursts with restless hate
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Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 2:56 PM UTC
Sonnet I: los días ultimos del rio Pasig
The squalid honey of this urban hive that sways and quivers in Escolta's arms assaulting viscous currents, I've survived to witness time dissolve in waters warm.      When monsoon whispers calmed the fev'rish night, hyacinths surren'dring to kundíman songs seduced I was to words meant to ignite another's lust. But still 'tis I that long      In time, desire has rotten into liquor and putrid nectar spoiled in unloved lips-- this rancor that I spit into this river to curse the farewell of your westward ship      and centuries have passed, yet here I bathe Manila's vein that bursts with restless hate
cvlaurena
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20/M/Manila, Philippines
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 2:56 PM UTC
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