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let me tell you the story of venus of the swamp. how she emerged fully formed from the pond scum; her hair thick with algae
You can see the very skies in her eyes She's an angel floating down the runway Adorned in roses and turtle doves Behold the fashion of her love
Alarm rings; It’s time to wake up. I view myself in the mirror. Why can’t I look better? My head is a war zone.
Venus, From the salt and the spray, She of great beauty emerged from the sea. She looked upon the beauty and plenty of the earth. Grass, green and lush. Trees, fruitful and sweet. She smiled,
Cupid is dead And Venus is fallen They've run out of lovers And suitors to call them They've left you poor souls To be lonely instead For Venus is fallen And Cupid is dead
We are orbiting, you and I,
I found my long lost twin in France. Hanging in an art museum. She is pale with long curly red hair. Like me. She is a goddess, born out of a shell from the sea. Not like me.
“He is an animal!” Venus screamed in such an incredible, yet childish way, that the ellipses of the other gods were reduced to hear her prattle. “His FACE-
C#m: With beauty was she blessed Emaj: Yet in stride left a curse— (Simile)
venus has been moving south each day on her rise above the trees, but soon she will stop, and turn, and retrace her steps, and move north again, and tell the bare branches to get dressed up again,