Another KissIn the gathering storm baggage is thrown
overboard.
There is no negotiation with the wind and the rain. Yet there are negotiators offering their
services
and there are prophets rising from the shadow of falsity. The road leads down the hill, now, toward nothingness. Like plague pilgrims along the road leading from Milano to a villa hidden in the arbors, pregnant with wine and song, we look into each other's eyes; our lips are wet and eager for another kiss, another kiss, another kiss. Posted: Tue - June 17, 2008 at 09:29 PM |
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