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I held in my arms an angel of pains, a victim of man’s brutes and God’s unkinds. Yet none of that matters to her or me. In my embrace, she was alive and full of happiness, as was I in hers. I saw nothing but beauty and passion. She was the world, soulful and whole-hearted. And the world I would give to have her soul and heart. She was pure, untouched by a true heart, deep innocent, unseen by mortal eyes. I laid her down on the bed and took a step back to adore a goddess’ grace. The falling white sheet spreads thin enough to cover below her smooth stomach. O mortal flesh…I desired breathlessly. See not of life until you see my angel’s elegiac eyes full of love. Whisper not of gentleness unless Fortune bestows upon you to hear her soft voice. Taste not of passion for she has not granted you her soulful kisses. Touch not of softness until you feel the tenderness of her silk skin against your naked body. Feel not of happiness until you are in the same beat with my heart when I see her smiles. Angel, she is my beautiful angel.

alan do - 09.01.2000

alan do
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the story of a vietnamese boy and a polish girl.
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