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lips on my grave

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March 5, 2013 in Offbeat

by

O Vicaria,
my love swoons and melts
at your sight.
My heart trembles as blood spills over
into your chalice
only returned with a look of
feigned malice.

tell me a story
take me there
out of this old hat
rag tag city
into the carpathian mountains
on night we ride
on day we fly,
you rupture me-
you make me feel
alive
i wish you could come inside
my casket.


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