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Ishtar Jun 2016
The sea of stars,
Can become a map
If we conect the dots
And follow the lines.

How come that all the times
As I wonder into the sky
As it fades from dead red
To blue and alive...

... You appear, every time,
I see your silhouette in a million sights,
Formed by the universe,
A fullcolor paradise.

Your silhouette, my love...
to climb the plain mountain
onto suffer through the laundry
suffer in silence
the quaint asunder fall

the bar fly stings
below in the basket scene
seek to let go
bustle out the tempo decor

a variation in a dream
as far as the fat lady sings
conect to extreme
lift the banner wise

a man has lice in hair
cut the corner twice
benefit for a great cause
love to hang out in the toilet

How about those Mets ?

— The End —