Your secrets fermented,
Like plums in the evenings o' July,
You're here,
Simple like naked,
Forgotten your title,
Forgotten your names,
And your visit aims.
I see a mouthful,
Extract of my bestial nature,
Anong the reinforced concrete,
Dead wood,
And some papers…
Right Here
© Copyright: 23artworks, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107112700453
Свидетельство о публикации №107112700453
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