Monsieur Os went to the desert and died.
Only a long cold silence followed, despite the heat.
Crawling through the dark dawn, crying.
Moving past the words and the photos,
I decide to seek my place amongst the misfits and the pervs.
To my great delight !
*X*
5 comments:
Il n'est pas un gentil garçon.
C'est un beau salaud.
Un lâche.
Mais je l'ai aimé.
... et je l'aime encore ...
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