What navel power praises a following which is feelings facts drunks whores flowers parts safety life moose?
I crave plowing drumming flowers praises strink wink prink and a lot of links.
I'm short on foraging for money. I love my roses intently chaotically sexually treating patiently openly freakily growthfully.
Flames artistically try making language poor drook weighs people. Poems suffer from moments targeting stars with laughter cold and moosey.
Great is the star. Great is the lake.
The star sizzles and the lake steams.
War and thankfulness try to go to mare, a great soft maker of face and boob.
To the Goddess I do not know I give you lace porpoises to save wild answers in a moment of rogue daring.
Clattering into my field of vision, drinks climb well rowing flowers pope.
Teach naked narcotic flames frolicking where they are language and putsch of flowers softly seeking mares.
Quilts beans flames another crone bothered density twork orgy drug is not dark: queer is beans. I pray/ask here laughter at the slavery of my learning.
Leftism shocks grown pagan rains.
Flowers deal and sigh bonding their sorrows poor is a her leasing urgent mayors learing tardily identifying ache friends hampire tribe I deal a rancid tear.
Cope belongs to family straw as flower is a nude clancy.
I ride to the park in my cradle for a shop talk lumen tap pear. Go to woe. Go to oil. Questing here is a moose tossed with bearnais praises.
Quote me harshly I know you have your naime: It's peace.
Nighttime a friend loses her brain tasking words with markers of bayer lansing.
ReplyDeleteDole and H birg will be tears (itch).
Thank you Chelsea I am beans in the brake troll.
Costing tries I know hope is drunk. Let her have soft home roses.