upon
mimosa flowers or gazania dreams such poison in loses. a bit of mango a glass
of sin while we concern ourselves. tactile woman or boundless sugar too surreal
to call by fence. legs jogging too hyper-creative, most say something must
give. a jamesia feeling a freesia gown or trespass on one’s own life. as actors
or figural clients where ethics, most silently, are bankrupt. so pictorial such
muffled screams, how does it feel to seem invisible? lifelike phones or life-giving
computers while sitting, sipping, thinking about things that never work. mature
emergence aside silky calves, a man desires so much she winks at.
gated
heaters or mature furnace or refined like no one will sense—those eyes those
answers or human discomfort. this is called normal, where hiding is not first
selection, but forthcoming is deliberate. it sounds like fire, but truth to
souls, deviation is pathological.
such
vehicles such volume sized women such height so cold this season as traps seem
set for flame a cage a man writhing. one more chapter one last round while
chaos is meant for affections. to dispute or decide upon names or music or a
woman hoping she keeps peace.
our database has errors.
treated subpar. while we raised a village. I saw an insect, I saw it in a
restroom, it felt familiar to be near that way.
by surgery of a lion by inner
company to have cared not enough.
