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By Rhetoric Date: 2002 Feb 08 Comment on this Work [[2002.02.08.16.32.9736]] |
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All dried up - and not a moment too soon. No verse, no symptoms d'amour to fuel this ride. I have no winning quip to merry the time. My water is dust; to feed the river. I want to dance and whisper to fairies wings. But, the wings have holes and love mends not. As a girl, I will emerge with glistening light. For now, I swap rain for sun and jury the day. |