Guest guest Posted October 24, 2005 Report Share Posted October 24, 2005 We are frivolous now, immune to our own bleeding in words on stark white paper, our meanderings in wastelands and deserts, in forest and primeval marsh in island serenades in mountains and moors savannah freedoms or tundra where lichen and flowers grow in a short durations pass away with the aurora borealis That undulates and copulates with the cold unseen wind, Here we hesitate fold our hands bow towards the sun Ana Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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