Apr 6, 2007

a pink cry

When I hear that old song

Little pearls arose on my cheeks

Those pink dunes are wet

As a desert rarely showered

Then flowers bloom in my heart

I wish to sent bunches of them

Every morning of you life

To scent it up with grace

I may intoxicate you

But my frangance is less strong

Than your attraction

Dec 20th, 2005, 01:22 AM

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