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Wandering around and yet known that I was there.

The bright strings coming down your face.

Does nothing but awake lust.

The white smile bring assurance of fun in the making.

You must be a scorpion to domisticate in order to survive.

Nothing will stop from integrating mystic souls into one.

Let me know what your next sting is.

I might be willing to suffer the concequences.



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Gone south and I can’t find north.

Without you, base camp is empty.

The lingering critters are lost.

Little by little, things are falling in place.

Routine is new and different.

One step at time, my head is coming together.

Lots of chores make me realize, you are needed.

I will sit here calmly waiting for your arrival.

I miss you and we need you.

Enjoy the south.

In the north, we think and dream of your company.