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I must live among women if I am more smooth, more pleasure
Less bite and less human fluids?
And not displaying costumes
And possessing almost much of the wolf
And practically nothing of the teeth that cut the meat
Should I continue the hunt?
Should I must go on writing you poems
If words putrefy
Scattered upon the debris of your bed that is your soul?
Oh God,
Flame that proceeds in my heart
Light that inhabits my body and boils:
Who taught me to be a predator?
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