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Victim

July 13, 2014

All the maturities turn a bending to earth

being weights from the fruits.

Very dear to us, my land

is my space where all the mensuration

of accounts, good works,loves,feelings

counts

 

In the forest, there are colors of carnival

Hunting is costing pain

Sun’s watch is running

in earth’s chest

You are very dear to me

my earth

a wrestling ground,a dear’s eye

a tie

with my love.

 

 

 

 

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