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Torrid
A sparkling eye
form a tear
Down ward flows off her cheek
Crashing to the ground
In her hands
She hides her face
Pale, the starvation for passion
Blood flow furiously
In her heart
Feeding energy
To the Nightime battles
Horses sharpening hooves
Trampling those who want
The tears
She was there
The lover in the night
poem
by
Howard Johnson
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