experts extract the shells from eggs and use their legs to cheese the milk in silk pajamas tying bows a nose upturned burns in the sun no fun for me says pilgrim pete bruised feet banged into his boots they blunt the earth with lack of mirth regurgitating screeds of shite longing tongues and limpid skinks funks befalling feeble domes its time to leave when hailstones pelt the melting butter sculpture town
Posted on: Mon, 14 Jul 2014 03:30:27 +0000
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