Hidden eeries of desire echo to angelsongs of love: The Sneeze

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Thursday, August 12, 2010

The Sneeze

You are the itch that I can't scratch, A harsh tickle that goes on and on, A breath that I can't catch, A moment with all decorum gone While I twitch and mightily inhale, Swelling with my impending release Until convulsing with siren's wail I explode into a stentorian sneeze. Sign in to see full entry.

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