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Him

He,
why I hang on(collide) to it ceaselessly,
without criticism I like(love) him
I waits for him
in my burning locks of hair miss me his
presence under my intense body this heat which was our and it is flown
away key under door
I see my life tourniquer
in its remote glance
but in spite of our differences
in the dela of my suffering never
I will not stop in secret of loves him

Him

limouche

Joined October 2007

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him

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