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THE CLOUD-MESSENGER
Friday, December 28, 2007
here is my sandal
please let me do the honour
of leaving prints across your face
mood: angry/hurting/ bitchy
music: probs song
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THE CLOUD-MESSENGER
Swerve from thy northern path; for westward rise
The palace balconies thou mayst not slight
In fair Ujjain; and if bewitching eyes
That flutter at thy gleams, should not delight
Thine amorous bosom, useless were thy gift of sight.
AULD
AULD
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