Friday, November 12, 2010

Woolite Fo® F®ont Loade®s









ALMA Alma, released my bonds.

Here
executioner air walk the underworld of desire, thoughts

prostitutes to burn the skin. Majestic


love the thrill of the loss

blurs the streets I walk frantic.

Alma, the night snake devours
wraps while taking away the portrait
sleep and memory,
runaway to the flight of scruple. Rossana Arellano

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