The_Third_Isis8 Dec 2003

Was the monk my" saint" Rasputin/you are a Hungarian gypsy by blood can't get a transfusion.Think I found your soul clinging to mine on an agust night..This is more like you Passionate,bohemian,walking,thinking composing.Tarot the morning star.Ahhhhh holding it in the fresh dirt/musky smell of the grave yard arousing to those of us who have a pulse.This poem is fine and you are forever MINE. more than a nine 10