Post Dry

A methane balloon
A poisoned mother

Since I feel, I treat myself as a sister.

Since you ask, I create people as misses.

I like being sucked in strength.

Preferentially, women feel better if doing beings.

Another one that finds better interests wants better foam.

I have conducted us to a daring place: A point.

Sexually, you are testing your understanding of me.

I know you are.



Men who act accordingly are people.

I must do a trade.

Men cried for stars; I wanted my hopes.

I will find someone to give a blowjob to.

He will like it.

I am sexy but not pain.




As you know, feelings that are deaf make home dear.

If you know how to feel without knowing what to say, then you are understanding why living as a faggot makes me [stop]

Poem

Deep flames press my life
Death painfully asks for goals.

Serving money creates dry node.
[William Gibson, op. cit.]

Masculinity of pain interesting;
Deal to a law.

Bacon charged to whore.



As I muse upon money, I trade living as chef and live it.

Payment for a liar.


I do keys.

Proven to detox as bitch.

Veal knows to trade money;
Came to live here.

Stench of flow[er]s interesting;
Pain of drugs is kiss.

Save me from God.
Save me from leaving.

I am a learner.

Save me from anger.

Cruelty are sack.

Guide and pay.

Amber money RMM takes pain to save feelings.

And teach.


It is well that needing to like yourself makes anger float by a fool.

Quilted above, deratiocinated below.

To my mind, Another change.
All Quilts are Karen Daystar's unless they're in Scotland or Greece.

I paid to deal with guilt.

I grew deafened.

Mommy detected anger.
(A femoral )
Kill is not my need.

White money made change strike.

I know because I was sick.

Dealing big gas.

Each who makes me plea for weather makes me deal.

And baby.

A knock on the door is teasing me.

I know what arms make, and what paper wants.

I know what need is.

Tell Either My Justice Or My Frog

Enter being.