Sweetest rose, the victory I smell.
You're scented.
And above the grey owl, sitting still upon my window-ledge...
you give myself the courage to honor.
Though in sequence of this journey...
I crave her.
A hunger for "passion"
and a desire of will.
When I used to stop for donut shops to the beach.
Fernando Pessoa and his poetry.
Maybe in the age I was 8.
That time I remember fondly...
that passion for hunger.
Everyone knew each other...
I lay camels at rest.
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