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Lay
Your arms resting flat on ground,Yet your hands give more.Green lace gloves entwined gold and royal blood.Defeated by age or landlords,You lay strong.The rain came and you forgot.Half your root was drinking air.
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Domingo de resurrección
Brillaba el acero en los talones del bronco café.Mientras el hermano Dedos,Fingía pedos de deudas por cobrar.Lidiaba el plumífero,Un hito de barra y le rompía la hostia,Al pobre payo importado del coronel.Y del burdel la vigueta;Crujidos gemía de oropel.En el cuartel sin lavar la loza.Al día siguiente con los soldados tirados.Al primero que despertó,Gárgaras de cerveza lo levantaron en resurrección.
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Ulterior motives
And the command of a peculiar army,Made up of alphabet.For my flag is writing and my vessel lying.
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Domesticating takes a lifetime
She's your faith,I'm your nightmare.I'll twist your words,Finding ways to avoid.Abandonment will mark your trust,And in grief you won't forgive.How I was gone.Her voice is your song,Mine a broken rancour,The forgotten life's tremor.Not a reason to stop.That isn't love.
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Why to watch out with words!
Maybe you think words are not something to be wary of. Watch out! The traitors. Sometimes the complaint is hidden among them. They can be a quick peek into the horrible inner world of the character. And they’re easily misunderstood. Pick them with care. Or let them ooze without regard. As unworthy as they seem, they can change a character’s world. In consequence, be wary of words and in awe too. Pasto kalo.
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Eclipse
All the things I wanted to sayAll the stuff I'd prefer hidden away.Over sharing.Reluctant.Bored and dead.Looking at the moon,Trying for once new stuff.Waiting for it to turn red.Changing a small minuscule thing.Yet, every hour is confused with yesterday.The stars that away.My blood turned into eggs.Is it cold or my head?Too late for tell tale.
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¿Morir solita?
Procedimientos,Deliberaciones y razones,¿Qué expectativas?Excluyamos el sexo.Y ningún humano "sensato" querrá el trato.El romance da por sentado,La penetración física y el contacto.Sin acceso a un cuerpo...¿Qué posibilidades?¿El deseo imposible de estar, charlar y ya?¿Es que, sin ello, a nadie le importa que existo?Mejor el gato.
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Je… Je comprends
Je comprends un mot.Ma première mot ça un mot triste.Oubliez.Qu'est la mémoire quand la oubliez manges la vie?Qu'est le cerveau quand il finit comme le vent?Je oubliés.Je suis perdu dans l'univers.
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Poema número no me acuerdo
Impúdica, Le miro el trasero.¿Que otra cosa puedo?De espaldas.Con traje azul acero recién planchado a horas de oficina.Y los calzones por encima,Canelos.Allá.Al menos a 7 metros por el suelo y unos 3 hacia el cielo.Tengo que torcer el cuello.Porque sus piernitas con mallas negras,Se aferran a una rama.No me ve.Son mis pisadas,Las que provocan vuelo.
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My spring time
The polished gem of sky,Attached to the again gold, dried earth.On the forged ring,The green emerald pine a stranger from the past.The jewel dropping it's green stones away.A land where trees say bye.Evergreens chewed into dust...( Misunderstand and add termite)The rest thirsty and mush.My spring waits for rain.