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A Princess of Rio drives by
******* in a tiny white car.
Plenty of times, I have been
          more aroused,
but she and her carriage
are so light
that I can do that impossible thing -
dive deep into the desire
as well as the unsinkable hope.
I think it's a good idea
to base society on the family,
and base the family on lust.
Not too many words
because I'm not here for debate.
I intend to assassinate obscurity,
and I'm happy to do it
with a lick, a bullet, or a snarl.
I'd like to penetrate the disorder
so that we'll be comforted,
but my hesitations are founded
in the knowing that doing so
will bring us together
in a sacrifice of nails,
and who the hell wants that.
A great fear
that I hope I
never resolve,
will my sons
see the beauty
of the world
and will the world
see the beauty
of my sons.
Look at my face and
you can't help but notice
my captivating eyes.

Their refinement was well crafted
after many poundings of my head
against the stone wall of lust.
I hide behind a great stone
hoping that the adoration
that my beloveds wish
to shower upon me
will be forgotten and neglected.

It is terrifying the manner
in which such sincere love
will purify me into anonymity,
just the same way tranquility
always threatens to do.
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