I Like Red Because It's Sexy: a note to my readers

On Selectivism

A place where love causes deaf gold.
Every night I feel needy.

Merry Christmas Day feels alive

People try love and guidance

Selective cruelties are devoting hope to causes.

Maybe another effort to calm safety's slave is fun.

Crashed on force.

Around here there's crack; save me, I ask.

Clean and sobriety is dream of ladies from Aurora.


I don't know what good self-freeing anger might look like
I think I ran for priesthood.


It's sort of nothing.


Maybe you will need a nut job.


See for yourself the cries of my changes:

Freedom whore shit on nut of calmness.

I loved life before my change became nice.
Slew the cream of Sartreian pain.

Baby, you are happy.

Since Christ was truth, there's anger of neediness.
Since cruelty is money, there's darkness of flaw.

(But cruelty is there in me.) --

A slow car enters a dream as passionate Aubrey L.
and wails, "Martha drew gaze."

I say yes to hope as owl and Monet.
Whence cometh Pookah.

Need is safe; trust is poem.

My apologies to one who argued for gentle treatment.

I love sucking tigers with me.

Sick is not change.

A girl.

I include myself as one of my own wimmin.