Wednesday

Someone



Someone constructed matter not you Mona. Or the wish of the bell hopping philosopher king. And his ambulants, nor their desire. To wish and wish, its fictioning long home down, traveling 10,000 miles .



Of the meadow and the funked out liver, the spanked wheat, its darling chop


Mona knows she's coming black rested by the tune of white an d its somber ease.

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Call it charisma Mister devenir ~ .



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