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Aleksandr Smirnov

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O! My damned stinking tongue,
I’d wrest and feed it to jackals.
I’d grind my bones and never take a pen
‘Cause all I have to say
Is that I’m fond of every piece of you,
And that I’ll wait you till the sun will die.

Aleksandr Smirnov

Sunday, May 26, 2013

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Poems By Aleksandr Smirnov

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