At the bottom of Machu Picchu,
the mechanism of my psychogenic muscular organ,
started to shake,
my whole body became spastic,
as the machinist,
I could not pull gasoline from thin air,
to lite my fire,
the humidity was too thick,
so the tools were not there,
I tried to site the ironic angry humor,
being that I built my heart,
built my heart...
to fail me.
irony
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