da girl fir ma. i don't know her taxes,
she owes me pi, her dude is a runner and smiles kind,
maybe he strums her, maybe he drugged her with his dikdik, she missiled korea, fukkblown aids and that was the first came.
ok, excuse my grammar and bankaccount my hair flops from side to
i ellide the best
were a best o'
im a drab flannel packet, on the Rolex replica ca$h, accusing buttons of a raw inch- bust the seams- awe love.
old love like a sailor kits the ocean with his wifedream. a flowered ambition, olive tree on ache medicine andsqueezed so hard squeezed so hard (shrieking ensues). i literate my oceanographer m€in spell, ok black, symbols like clutter and i want junk,
mega ions and cafe.
free the waitress of strings and let her cat about, maybe she is guitar strings and a kettle steaming the sky down flat sky at night kind of blue she tasted old biscuits and remembered effort and trimming down her heartache- in tea leave crisp, a green of August and slight remedy
cant remember actually when, the windows werent showing in, i separated my door from proper sense, the roof was in my fist.
she cried a bit. i kissed not that good, i was poised like a statue- and she was like a 2007 cabernet sauvignon that i lust till i slave 4. yeah
i wish there were better flowers in my hair, and that petals sung not echoes but promises you could hold,
one ripping fist
un with palm 2