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Nothing Personal
Poems
Mar 2012
At the end of creation (or at its begining)
You are my conjecture when the universe ends.
I will create geometry, possessiveness and dystopia
looking through your eyes.
O mystic girl,
this time make the world less enigmatic
settle down in a small hamlet by the bay
cook me fish and rice
and I will stay home, always.
Β© Nothing Personal. March 23 2012.
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Nothing Personal
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