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Right in the eye

With a cigarette that breathes to the rythm of air stuck between her goldfingers of bone she leans back in the armchair. She wears her pants like a prison and the way she stares pierces your forehead. Accompanied by a waving gesture of the left hand, still clutching the cigarette, she says: 'A poem u can't dance to, ain't worth readin'. You wouldn't be too sure if she knew what she was talking about, if her eyes didn't pierce your every doubt.

Fri vers av hallucinatingarkansas
Läst 429 gånger och applåderad av 2 personer
Publicerad 2008-12-03 02:24

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gud va' bra
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