In mercury twilight, I write severe admonishments treated as selfish whims, upon my desirous, breaks of fish Whom I neglect without any a dear to repair his sights--only game in rear of the front view that is served on a dish delightful, delirious strain, selfish foreboding, wretched role that appears to be my heartened warm, rigidly torn The diluted mental-state hoods that moan squander typical days caught by the thorn of bliss, everlasting forms--timid groan Violence destructs, creates fine figures--born And reassembled passions, they go roam By Deborah Godinez 2011 ©
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