Saturday, 5 November 2011

Dirty Hands

I run across the seas
and sodomizing
a long awaited dream
of the tempest
when I am arrested,
my hands are chained
with yours and I turn pale

You spoil my color,
You spoil my dream
crying a ruthlless supposition
for my speechless rupture
a noxious parameter
my sanity,disputable
loses to
the discursive,
the belief

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