| Back | When I think of the thing which flew at my throat this morning, hanging its black and scarlet visage over the nest of my dove, my blood curdles--" |
|---|---|
| Front | Cuando pienso en cómo saltó sobre mí esta mañana y me acuerdo de que estuvo en tu habitación, se me hiela la sangre. |
Tags: 198spn, spn
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