Directions to steam
Bossy older woman calls life a possible hope
American archeress claims places
Illness pleases a famous seer:
Seal the loss with loud gazes.
More of that clay is playing
No one as sap.
Mack wanted this freedom;
Orgasms darkened with clay.
I work with sound.
Cameras are fun.
Pounding the part of myself that interests poesy,
Ick runs out of the places that I manipulated.
She hardens her sanity so that I am muss.
Derive your answers toward indra.
I release you from geology, hydrology, poetry and woman.
The stupidity I display is an artifact of fear.
You like the coldness; I am part of it.
This no one can not say anger is love.
This person can not give anger to your hopes.
If you created my safety, then how do I play?
Withal, and laughingly, you charted this happy boss.
I level my big senses; they were tall and impressed.
I call you my font.
Print this woman as stumbling
Dear hansel:
No comments:
Post a Comment
Go Ahead: Comment.