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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Spiritual >> ID #644334 |   |
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Your words are roses,
Scented and barbed, Drawing love From the fingers of desire. The fragrance of your words, Titillates and beckons, Calls me From the tomb of self.
© Copyright 2003 Prosperous Snow (UN: nfdarbe at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Prosperous Snow has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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