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Death To Fascism Sunny
Pain is pleasure
he took out his beating heart
and gave it to her.
it is yours.
if it gives you pleasure to crush it,
then so be it.
what need words
the look in your eyes
is enough
to pierce my heart.
my soul is tainted,
it can feel no passion,
but that of despair.
it is a poison which gives pleasure.
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FLYING - INtercontinental trip
secretly through the morning light,
we scream through the sky,
jets straining, wind streaming,
like a kite we cut through the air.
our destination yet so far away,
the hours pass slowly.
the ground, varied, rushes below.
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