I've heard it all before.
Oh, how his speech with honey drips!I want to touch those lying lips
With a coal lit from the fire
Of my foolish, misguided desire,
And start a raging conflagration
So all that's left is desolation,
My wounded heart still panting, there
On the blackened hillside, bleak and bare.
Poetry by Marie Cadavieco
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Written on 2019-05-29 at 22:25
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jim |
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Texts |
by Marie Cadavieco Latest textsConversations no 4Remembering Conversations no 3 Hasta Luego Hope |
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