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Cradle of words
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Mindfucked Pleasures
He enters the door, waiting for her flesh to come, drops the glass and grabs hard to .the core, unruffles her hair. and lifts her up and...
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‘Bag-aged’
You play in the park under the sun, all you think about is carrying the fun, far away the flight catches you, inside those are demons...
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Chapter 5: Cigarettes
I’m lighting another cigarette, raising one more of the coming glasses, I’m not weak, not feeble, I just belong here, this stable. Don’t...
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Marching Orders
Marching ants, vibrant sunflowers, flowing waves of birds, everything was not so complex as a flock of herds, life was never that easy as...
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A poetry blog, for the not so poet in you
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