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Thursday, January 31, 2008

Your lips.



Inside the bloodstained sunset
of the Caribbean's afternoon,
two burning mountains
are kissing each other...
Thus, your lips are born.
Fire over fire…
Flame against flame…
Kiss that ignites and illuminates my darkened soul.
For you I would burn myself,
until my ashes,
and even farther on…
Inside the incinerated sunset
of the tropical afternoon
two passionate mountains
hugs each other...
Thus, your lips are born.

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