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Apr 29, 2015

O How I Hate

How I hate the silly perfumed wind
As it rushes to breeze you in.
That stupid oyster grain
As it delicately dangles
Between those secret place I believe
Are oh so mine!
That hint of a bindi blazing fire consuming
All my worlds all the time.


That City Girl

For me you have been a traveler The one who rides the oceans and the big blue seas Seeking experiences That can be framed into postcar...