If th if there weren’t enough paper right to work and back and feel the

I went to where i last felt a fence to everywgere spooling my sense of nothingq doing alright
Hello
There are other little or whatever you want to go
Good: I’ll go to “well” when I was last fuul frontal, &$(

I spent the winter in a fragrant flight of giggling it: animated eyes and shake my cycle into rocks and cocks? Yep.
Producing my fabulous forte of fruitive function.
And animal using condoms don’t defend.

So what’s the sundial bridge all about?

You would be stealthy under me, and slide like a legion of mirrors through me what happened to my in the conclusion I need the power tool. A mighty motor under me

But I spread my skirt for the master of a mouth that knows the depth of words and handles me legibly denied the ride to my church, saving me with all your plunging into the gape of ecstasy. Open.

Warm meat and the hearty heat of emptiness. Know me and say it like that.

So I swore i’s the contents of my message, now that I said at all!!

And the courtesy of the guest was my second meds to claim fantasy my truth fes

Where did you find me feeling lost to lead you leverage …

I see you everywhere piecing me to seasons speckled wanderlust and forgiving my dowry to concede me

Yaweh.. Yeah we… Uh shall we… Yeah..WAY!

The eloquent complex of ideas here is too original to contain. My random duty to defer the dance of my destiny is confined by states of surface to scandalizing increments of gathering thoughts engineered to defy me my right to verify my issue of “eyes right” and easy the navigation to nurture need so directed to time me taming the terror of task and total insistence on facts than subsistence in the supple sigh of sanctity where my auction ought to be.

I felt you hurting me from “there”.

I went so far as to mitigate my fate with demanding the sort of stamina that rocked the phantom sim

The minute hand to the hour’s sand collects the stats close enough to modify my mishaps. Converting the cognizance of atoms to confide …. A long story ever-grew to star the thought that created you. And astounding the accreditation of entity that pauses me to ponder… Vicinity and asking price of water, occasionally.

I outran the days with you chasing me when you stopped loving me to sleep;
And I burned my bedroom rumbles of displacement figuring the map that leads you swaying away from where you held me still….

More men in my bed than you ever were to tease me you every song I sigh; wondering what “were”.
And I satiate my September in burning skin that you missed so apparentless. Proving me apparently nothing
as I were the fierce in you fumbling to fatal

falling falling to nowhere not felt by your fit against the strain of me to suffer the quality of sin
as you were my heinous hate of myself to know that I loved more than lived

So recover me now sifting through sails of spent
when I meant the same as what it means to sew nothing that I’ll ever know to wear under your hands again what

is known.

to imagine you

Between the hours, I abhor the minutes that digest me solumn and unbecoming anything ample to collect the tiresome toll of tears taking me to testaments and taxable income, I sit dumb in my made-belive bedroom, with no headroom to dote over hems and stitches and feel witless of circumstance without a petticoat…. more remote to my pencil,

So I fasten my hooks and eyes to festive sighs of bedlam, and sort out the cost of indecency with my rule of instinct to indicate my toes would touch, had I this much aim to dance you dearly to end my pain… laud, my rum went down the drain… how true does the determination of totality taste to a new kind of menu?

I wrote you the wrath of indecency,

tasting my fame on your lips;

the cause for everything denied me.

An abomination to claim you

and herald to name you mine.

I became a limit of lessons learned

with no apology to paper burned

that you forsake me.

And doom is my tomb of a severed soul

without a sound mind

but holy in its hallowedness

to know you secretly divine.

2012