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Hunting Lions

Poetry for your heart not for your head.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Gypsy Rojo


the Gypsy Rojo watches out for the lost souls
tumbling out of control whimpering 
she reaches out for your throat Sangre Circulación 
hop on the little red bus
there are no chairs to sit on
nothing to hold on to

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Posted by huntinglions at 12:06 AM

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