Quote:
Originally Posted by unaluna
I am hot and bored. I need to take a shower and get this show on the road. Somebody light a fire under my butt.
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*passes matches*
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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