I skipped (troubles).
Climbing is here at you.
Quarrying it here (please here) is here.
Oil socks rolls I had your drama.
Skill collapses in the instant of composition--
A thought of planes with no lace or wit (dies).
Change calls me a rake for my slandering flower
A dais rosen/kavalier parts my mind cautiously
For a breath I do not approve.
Will you breathe me as I breathed others?
A passion of nightlong tender synchronization of
respiring bodies -- three to the bed.
Clowns. Are these cranes of good luck my mind in brief?
Destiny calls for me, and I am pained awfully badly cashing in
With no dress to free my handsome life.
Fuss is the strangled death throe wise ass stark as a flute.
Your place was here, pinned to thinkings tried and glued.
A will to myself dropped clothes clean me as clotted grime falls to the wooden place.
We are here.
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