miércoles, 8 de agosto de 2012

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She had strobe lights for eyes,
best seizures I've ever had

And there was something mystical about those sparks,
Some wicked flame that, oh, burned so bright

Painful to the touch,
as everything born of love,
but don't we all love to burn?

So I look for burning eyes
and wicked, filed teeth smiles...

And bite, and gnaw, and rend your merry way away.

Mario Doñé
8 de Agosto 2012

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