A smile that blazes,
Sweet like sugar glaces.
It was not when I see you dressed,
That I realised your nakedness.
Your prolong gazes,
Like bolts from tasers.
They send me to places,
Like those with ming vases.
Writings of a Phobophobe.
A smile that blazes,
Sweet like sugar glaces.
It was not when I see you dressed,
That I realised your nakedness.
Your prolong gazes,
Like bolts from tasers.
They send me to places,
Like those with ming vases.
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